


I just wanna make love to you

by DairyFarmer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Creampie, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, M/M, Making Out, Masks, Mistaken Identity, Overstimulation, Pining Keith (Voltron), Riding, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, because that someone ain’t me lol, blindfolded sex, but just a little bit, lmao lance prob develops a marmoran mask kink after this, someone help these boys, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-02-14 17:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13012269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DairyFarmer/pseuds/DairyFarmer
Summary: Both Paladin and Blade stood in silence for almost a full minute, staring at each other with indiscernible expressions (or at least Lance thinks the latter is, can’t really tell with the identity protecting mask adorning their face.)Before he can stop himself, he opens his mouth with a smirk curling at his lips.“You come here often?” Lance asks, tilting his head coyly.XxXIn which Lance hooks up with a masked Marmora member, unaware he might know the person a little better than he thinks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> aahh i couldnt get this idea out of my head throughout the entire day so i did it and now here it is.

To be fair, if anyone had dibs on the Castle’s large luxury baths- it was Lance.

I mean it’s not like anyone _else_ on the castleship put as much attention to their looks as Lance did (except for maybe Coran). So Lance got used to being the only one that bothered to make the trip all the way down to the bowels of the Castleship after particularly strenuous missions.

And _man oh man_ did Lance have the time his life.

The showers that were situated beside the training deck, and were the ones used by virtually everyone in the castle, were more convenient-  but they were so _Spartan_ in their design. They were an open floor plan, virtually no privacy or barriers. They had curved hoses attached to the wall which dispensed a foamy soap before immediately being followed by a heavy flow of water. Following a session with the gladiator or upon return from an exhausting mission, the quick ‘in n’ out’ efficiency was a godsend.

But Lance wasn’t looking to be efficient. He was looking to be pampered. To be powdered and puffed like the  jewel he was.

And the abandoned Spa of the Castle fulfilled that exact desire.

Multiple shallow pools served as tubs, each sporting a different temperature. Lance had taken to personalizing each of them, infusing their silky waters with oils and scented flora he’d brought from the numerous planets Voltron visited. The tubs were separated by white, transparent curtains that moved like waves  when lightly brushed aside. Large circular mirrors hung above an entire line of sinks on the far side of the room and pinkish lights lit up the space from crystal-like fixtures on the wall.

It was Lance’s little slice of heaven.

When he arrived he could take his time- stripping and neatly dispensing of his sweat soaked armour before lightly stepping into one of the more tepid pools and lying languidly against the sides as he scrubbed the dirt from his skin with a soft cloth. He’d sit there until the aches in his muscles were gently washed away by the water. Taking the fluffy robe he brought down with him, he’d take a seat in front of the row of mirrors- critically examining his appearance. Stray hairs would get plucked by a pair of tweezers he’d lifted from Allura, any budding signs of a pimple would have medicated ointment immediately applied, and the rest of his face would be treated with nice hydrating face creams, serums, and a sheet mask to top it all off. By that point it’d be getting late and Lance would move onto the final step of his beauty regimen. Moisturizing. Before leaving Lance would make sure to moisturize every part of his body until he’d glow with visible smoothness. The thick, scentless lotion was slowly rubbed into every part he could reach.

And it was during this part that Lance was interrupted.

Lance heard it before he saw it. The sound of the door to the Spa sliding open and footsteps entering. He’d been struck still for a minute, hands frozen on his inner thigh where he was steadily working in the alien cream. The steps came closer to him, passing pool after pool before suddenly stopping a few feet away from where Lance had his back turned.

Lance should probably feel something. Maybe embarrassment or anger- after all who liked being walked in on while they were having some private time? But those emotions were ignored in favor of curiosity. Lance lifted his head, tilting it back slightly to catch a glimpse of who wandered into his little abode.

He felt his brows rise in surprise when he caught sight of the Blade of Marmora uniform, it’s wearer standing frozen with a white curtain being pushed out of the way by one of their arms.

Both Paladin and Blade stood in silence for almost a full minute, staring at each other with indiscernible expressions (or at least Lance thinks the latter is, can’t really tell with the identity protecting mask adorning their face.)

Before he can stop himself, he opens his mouth with a smirk curling at his lips.

“You come here often?” Lance asks, tilting his head coyly as he lifted his raised leg off the nearby stool back to the floor. The Blade in front of him shifts, dropping their hands down unsurely.

Lance raises a brow, grin unfaltering as he rests his tush against the rim of the sink.

“I’ll have to take that as a _‘no’_.” Lance replies, straightening his robe to make sure he didn’t flash the Blade (that would _not_ be a fun lecture to get from Shiro). “Are the showers upstairs full?” Lance asks, attempting to make conversation as he returned to his previous actions, albeit slightly more discreet.

Now Lance wouldn’t say that he’s _close_ with any of the Blades- all of Voltron’s interactions with them are mainly left up to Keith, Shiro, and Allura. But Lance likes to think he’s a fairly approachable guy (definitely more approachable than _Keith_ ), so the Blade’s following silence kind of throws him for a loop. Lance lifts his head back up, ready to repeat his question when he catches the Blade snap their head back up and look away like they were afraid of being caught.

Lance’s words die in his throat, surprise taking its place. For a moment Lance thinks he almost imagined the action. But as he lets his hand unconsciously begin to stroke one of his legs, the Blade’s head slowly inches back in Lance’s direction, head bobbing slightly, presumably because their eyes are following the movement.

Ohohoho, _interesting._

Lance resists the urge to grin as he slowly straightened his back, robe loosening slightly as he steadily approached the Galra who flinched as he stopped in front of them.

“See something you like?” Lance asks, inclining his head in the direction of the armoured Blade. The Galra is probably the smallest Lance has met so far, Lance was maybe even a little taller by a miniscule amount. Rather than answer, the Blade looked down to the floor, avoiding Lance’s gaze as they shifted their weight from foot to foot. Lance’s grin widened.

“Whatsa matter?” Lance asked, smiling coquettishly as he leant forward, letting his torso press against the armored plates of the Marmoran. A slight chill traveled from the cold material to Lance’s naked chest. “ _Cat got your tongue?_ ” He inquired, tilting his head to whisper the question near what was presumably the Galra’s ear. A slight shiver passed through the Blade’s body, their hands hovering slightly like they were debating whether or not to touch Lance.

Before they could reach a decision, Lance pulled away, bouncing back a few feet and retreating back to the sink where a basket full of his soaps, conditioners, and lotions lay resting. With the thrill of satisfaction and excitement thrumming under his skin Lance spun back around with them in hand.

“Well this has been fun!” He exclaimed, pleased smile on his face. And it _was_ , Lance hasn’t had a chance to flirt with someone (and have it be reciprocated) in _forever._  But as Allura loved to remind them- all fun had to come to an end. It was getting late and as much as Lance would love to continue dragging this little game out- he also wanted to be rested for the meeting with Keith and Kolivan in the morning, a joint mission between the Blade and Voltron had just been finished and now, apparently, they needed to do _‘performance reviews’._ Lance thought it was just Keith taking an opportunity to shit on him, as always.

With a final once over to the Blade, still standing with their hands in an outstretched position, Lance winked and moved to brush past them. Before he could take more than a few steps, a hand latched onto his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Lance tilted his head back, curious to see what the Galra was doing.

The Marmoran retracted their hand as soon as Lance turned around, holding it close to their chest as if to prevent it from reaching out again.

“Something you need?” Lance asks, playing dumb. He knows just as well as anyone _why_ the Galra reached for him as he was about to leave.

The Galra doesn’t answer, their stance stiff as they stared at Lance from behind their mask.

Lance raises a brow, expression expectant as he waited to see what the Blade would do.

“You should use your words.” Lance recommends, shrugging his shoulders as he tugged on his robe. “People can’t help you if you don’t-”

The Galra lays a firm hand on Lance’s hip.

Lance freezes, eyes widening slightly as the Galra hesitantly lays their other hand on Lance’s hip, lightly squeezing.

“-say anything.” Lance finishes quietly. Lance is staring at the mask covered face, trying to make out what sort of expression the Galra must be making. Despite the bold move, Lance can practically taste the timidity rolling off the Galra in waves. So before the Galra has a chance to back out, Lance softly lays his own hands on top of the gloved ones holding him.

The Galra instantly tenses, grip going firm as Lance’s fingers brushed against the Blade’s wrists. Lance breathes slowly through his nose as he begins to tilt his head to the side, exposing his neck. He bites his lip as he drags his hands up the Galra’s forearms, lightly caressing their biceps, and stops at their shoulders. The Galra shivers and Lance feels the tremble travel through his palms and to the rest of his body. The reaction almost causes _Lance_ to shiver in anticipation, his own gut twisting as the two stood facing each other, wondering and waiting to see what would happen next.

The air between them was still, the silence of the room permeating as they stared at one another. If Lance strained, he could almost hear the heavy breathing of the Galra in front of him. Lance wondered if the Galra could hear his heart, which felt like it was going to beat out of his chest at any moment.

Lance’s grip tightened just as the Blade in front of him took a step forward, pressing themself closer to Lance. Lance’s breathing stuttered and his cheek brushed against the cold metal of the Galra’s mask. Before he could stop himself, Lance placed a light kiss on the mask, right where the Blade’s mouth would be.

The Blade’s shoulders immediatly went taut but somehow Lance could tell that it wasn’t a bad sign. Taking a slightly shaky breath because the air suddenly feels so much thicker, Lance leans forward once again, this time planting a firmer kiss against the mask. Lance’s moves his pliant lips against the Marmoran mask slowly, eyes slipping closed as he turned his head to the side to get a better angle. The Blade holding him trembles slightly as they begin stroking a hand up and down Lance’s lower back, encouraging him.

Lance gladly obliges. His tongue sneaks out, giving an occasional kitten lick as he began heavily making out with the Galra’s mask, plush lips bruising from the pressure as Lance imagined what the Blade’s lips felt like. Were they warm? Wet? Did they have chapped lips? Sharp teeth? What about their tongue? How would it feel inside of Lance’s mouth? How would Lance’s tongue feel inside the Galra’s mouth?

As he continued heavily kissing, pulling back for an occasional breath before diving back in, he barely registered the Galra’s hands slipping away from his hips and down to his ass. He realized it when he was suddenly lifted up. In his surprise, Lance wrapped his legs around the Galra’s waist, hands gripping their shoulders as they took a few steps forward before stopping and setting Lance down on the edge of the sink. Lance took a moment to recover before grinning and lightly tapping his forehead against the Galra’s protected one.

“ _Oooooo_ ,” he crooned, legs pulling the Galra tighter against him, “well aren’t you strooong!”

Lance’s grin remained, it even widened, as he gave a slow grind of his hips against the Galra’s. At that the Galra sucked in an audibly sharp breath and thrust their hips forward, crotch hitting Lance’s inner thigh. Lance felt something within him ignite with glee as he felt the half chub that the Galra in front of him was sporting, its length working up to press against the tightness of his uniform.

“Well, well, well,” Lance sang, beginning to slowly gyrate his hips against the still Galra. “I see your little friend came out to _playyy_.”

The Galra in front of him released a slight huffing sound that danced the line of annoyed and exasperated but they didn’t object as Lance continued working his hips, trying to get both their dicks up to a nice hardness.

Lance’s robe began to shift, his half-hard dick peeking through. The Galra in front of him, however, was all ready to go- their dick was straining against their bodysuit and ready to jam.

Lance bit down harshly on his lip as the Blade in front of him tightened their grip on Lance’s hips, holding him in place as they began to press their thickness to the interior of his thighs.

Lance’s breathing became harsh, the itch for release beginning to rise in him the more the Galra thrust between his legs. Lance lowered his hand to the Galra’s waist, forcing him to stop his movements. The Galra stuttered, their grip becoming hesitant as Lance pushed himself further up on the sink.

“Give me a sec, baby.” Lance murmured as he lowered his hands to the front of the Blade’s suit, hoping they had the slitted opening in the front like his Paladin suit did.

Lance was in luck because it did.

Restraining the urge to give a shout of success, he reached into the slit, hand immediately met with a thick girth. Delicately, Lance tugged it out, and _holy shit_ it was practically dripping in precum.

It looked astonishingly similar to a human dick, and Lance would know- he’s seen a lot. He thought the Galra’s would be purple, maybe even furry. Not that Lance laid around thinking about what Galra dick looked like.

The length was a light color and nice thickness- Lance appreciated beauty in all its forms. Lance pulled back the foreskin to let the pad of his thumb graze the head in a way he knew would drive the Galra crazy. A stuttered thrust into his fist proved him right.

Lance gave a slow, almost lazy, pump, smirking when the Galra gave a deep groan. As the Galra continued fucking his fist, Lance reached down with his free hand and began undoing the tie that held his robe together. Lance swiftly undid the loose knot, letting his dick spring free. With a slight adjustment of his hips the Galra was now thrusting alongside his own dick, both surrounded by the tightness of Lance’s hand. Lance bit down on his lip, taking a shaky breath as the Galra slowed, their precum serving as a makeshift lube between their lengths.

Lance began pumping his fist around them, his darker dick rubbing against the Galra’s lighter one. The Galra was practically hunched over Lance, body covering his as he held onto Lance’s waist in a bruising grip. Lance could feel his pleasure sparking up his spine, making him feel lightheaded as he squeezed harder on his and the Galra’s lengths. Lance’s mouth  fell open, eyes screwing shut as he began losing himself to the feeling of his orgasm rising in him. The skin tingling pleasure had Lance letting out small whimpers as his own hips began thrusting wildly, desperate as they tried to meet the Galra’s rhythm.

The Galra above him gave deep grunts as they pressed Lance harder into the sink. One of the faucet’s began digging uncomfortably into Lance’s spine but he couldn’t bring himself to care, he felt like he was about to _burst_.

Lance’s breathing became erratic, voice letting out choking noises as the Galra took on an inhuman pace, their own gloved hand rising and wrapping around Lance’s fist.

“ _Shit_!” Lance cursed, toes beginning to curl in mind-numbing pleasure. “Fuck!” He spit out, jaw clenching as his eyes began to roll back into his head. “Fuck! _I’m-I’m com-c_ -” Lance’s words were cut off with a gasp, his back arching away from the sink as he tried to meet the harsh thrusts of the Galra above him, also vocal about their own pleasure.

It took a few minutes for Lance to come down. His heart was beating a mile a minute in his chest, his body felt spent even though this was hardly a marathon. His stomach was sticky with cum, both his own and the Galra who was still hunched over him. Lance breathed slowly through his nose as he felt the Galra’s dick give a few more weak spurts. Lance whined as the Galra loosened his grip on both their dicks, Lance having already pulled his hand away.

With a grunt of effort Lance pushed himself off the sink, legs weak as he landed. His heartbeat still hadn’t returned to normal and Lance felt the tingle of his recent orgasm lingering.

Taking a steadying breath, Lance met the gaze of the Blade in front of him, their limp dick hanging out of their suit. Lance wondered what sort of expressions the Galra had been making while he got the handjob of a lifetime. Did he close his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of his orgasm creeping up on him? Or were his eyes open? Did he watch and see the faces Lance made as he lost himself to the feel of another body on top of him?

But rather than ask, Lance began retying his robes, resolving to clean away the mess on his stomach with some wipes he had stashed in his room. He bent over, retrieving his earlier discarded basket. As he took as step forward, he placed a hand on the Galra’s chest, eyes focused on the mask where the other Galra’s eyes would be.

Lance wasn’t sure what to say. What do you say after you hook up with someone in a bathroom? ‘ _Nice job’. ‘Thanks’. ‘Was it as good for you as it was for me?’_

Nope. Those were all douchebag lines. And Lance was not a _douchebag_.

As Lance stared into the mask of the Blade in front of him, he got the feeling that they were thinking something along the same lines as him. Taking a moment to consider his next move. Lance hesitated for only a second before leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss on the Galra’s “lips”. The metal of the mask sent a slight chill down Lance’s spine, and he got the impression that the action was somehow incredibly intimate. As he pulled away, a small smile crept across his face.

“I’ll see you around sometime?” Lance offered. The Galra in front of him nodded sharply, their hands lightly resting on Lance’s hips. Lance grinned, slowly moving out of the Galra’s arms, letting himself linger as he made to leave. With a single look over his shoulder, Lance sent the Galra a sly wink before walking out of the Spa’s doors.

As Lance made his way back to his room, he recalled the meeting they had with the Blade in the morning. All of them wore the same uniform and didn’t really have any features that discerned them from each other unless they had external traits like a prehensile tail. And even if he _did_ manage to work out who it was, he doubted Keith, Shiro, or Allura would be very happy to find out about Lance’s canoodling.

Keith especially. Lance doubted Keith would be very happy to find out he fucked around with one of his fellow Blades.

Nope.

Looks like he’d just have to keep this little nighttime frolic to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keith was shooketh after lance left  
> XxX  
> come and give me the business on [my tumblr](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith is a weak man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asfhklhgn man i know i promised this by Christmas but i had no idea how hard it'd be to write while my whole family hung around.  
> but here it is!! (a day late) i hope you find it worth the wait!

Keith knew it was wrong.

He knew it the very second the thought crossed his mind that what he was doing was so, so, _so_ wrong. But he couldn’t help it, he just wanted it _so much_.

Keith had long since come to the realization that Lance would never like him.

At least never like him the same way _Keith_ liked him.

Sure he and Lance got along (they _had_ been getting along before Keith left Voltron for the Blade of Marmora) but just because Lance smiled at him on occasion and offered him a fist bump every once in awhile didn’t mean shit. Even if they were close to becoming actual friends sometimes didn’t mean shit. Because Keith didn’t want to be Lance’s friend. He wanted to be _more_.

But it didn’t help that Lance seemed to think that Keith had some sort of... _thing_ against him. Though Keith would have to admit that their strained relationship was mostly his fault, the stress of being leader while Shiro was gone just _got to him._ Lance tried to help, tried to be there for him and offer his shoulder to cry on. But Keith, like an idiot, just pushed him away. And when Shiro really did come back and Keith finally felt like he could _breath_ \- Lance had moved on.

Keith tried to close the gap between them, tried to get closer to Lance but...the Blade needed his help...and Voltron needed Lance’s. And suddenly what Keith wanted...just didn’t seem possible.

When he was the leader Lance came to _him_ , depended on _him_ , believed in _him_. No one but Shiro had ever looked at Keith the way Lance did in those days, like Keith was...worth noticing.

Keith wanted Lance to look at him like that again. Keith wanted to train with Lance and eat with him and laugh with him, joke with him, kiss him, hold him, touch him.

But he knows if he ever tried...then Lance would never...he’d never feel what Keith felt for him.

So seeing Lance when the Blade of Marmora had a joint mission with Voltron was the extent of his contact. He and Lance weren’t close enough friends to warrant surprise video chats. They weren’t close enough to greet each other with anything other than a simple ‘Hey, how ya been?’ (even though Keith wanted to wrap Lance up in his arms whenever he saw him again).

But Keith made do. He dealt with it, he even, to an extent, accepted it. Lance didn’t like him and that was _okay_. It didn’t matter how much Keith wanted to be with Lance, how good he thought they could be for each other.

Their relationship was fine. It was fine. And Keith was fine with being nothing more than Keith in Lance’s eyes, just regular old Keith.

…

Or at least it _was_ fine.

But after the shared mission between the Blade of Marmora and Voltron to liberate the Kerzmaagin System, everything he had shoved down and forcibly ignored was all of a sudden bubbling to the surface.

And it was all because he walked in on Lance half-naked. And Keith thought he was better than that.

He still didn’t know why he didn’t just turn around and walk out as soon as he saw that Lance was the only other person there. The showers by the training deck would’ve been free as soon as his kin finished scraping off the highly flammable fuel they’d all been doused in during the raid on the Galra bases plaguing the system (Keith was lucky enough to have been sorted into a different team than those afflicted).

But he didn’t. He stayed.

He stayed when Lance started throwing out teasing lines with an edge of flirtation.

He stayed when Lance came up to him and leaned in so close Keith could practically _taste_ him.

When Lance made to leave, Keith reached out for him- wanting him, _begging_ him to stay.

And he shouldn’t have done it. He _knew_ he shouldn’t have done it.

He should’ve backed up and told Lance that it was him. He should’ve taken his mask off and exposed himself when Lance leant forward and began laying soft kisses on it.

But he didn’t.

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

His brain turned to jelly when Lance pressed his body against Keith, when he put his lips right where _Keith’s_ lips would’ve been. He died a little ,inside, when Lance let his eyes slip closed as he made out with him. What Keith would’ve given up in that moment to have his tongue in Lance’s mouth. To taste him, hold him close, and give into what he’s wanted for what felt like _forever_.

As Keith’s hands explored Lance, hands gripping onto his slim waist, fingers trailing across velvet skin- he kept telling himself ‘this is it, this is all we can have.’ But when his hands trailed down and gripped onto the ass he’s watched out of the corner of his eyes more times than he could recall- he broke.

Keith Kogane fucking broke because he touched a butt.

Keith pulled Lance toward him, lifting him up in his arms like he’s always wanted to do, and lying him down on the rim of the sink that sat behind the blue eyed boy.

Not even a second later Lance was tightening his legs around Keith’s waist, pulling him closer. Keith bit down on his lip as his crotch connected with Lance’s thigh. He was already partially hard and it seemed like Lance immediately took notice.

A slight wave of annoyance hit him at Lance’s not so suave way of pointing it out. But at the sight of the teasing grin pulling at the other boy’s lips, Keith felt his minor irritation instantly melt away.

Keith realized he had a bit of a cavalier attitude. Any and all affection was hard for him to show. But somehow, being with Lance almost crumbled that facade away.

Even if Lance didn’t know that it was Keith who was pressing him against the sink. Lance didn’t know that it’s Keith’s dick he was tugging out of his suit. Didn’t know that it was Keith he was untying his robe in front of. Didn’t know it was Keith he was jacking off and moaning against. Didn’t know it was Keith who reached his hand forward and began fucking his fist before spilling his release onto his tanned stomach. Lance had no idea. And Keith didn’t know whether he loved or hated that.

But still Keith kept silent, watching as Lance pushed off the sink, smiled dopily at him, gave him a wet kiss goodbye, and left Keith alone in the bathing area. The entire time it happened, Keith had said nothing. Never gave Lance any hint or indication that it was him.

Even as Keith stood there, heart pounding away at a mile minute knowing that he just fucking _did that_. He couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

XxX

At the joint meeting the next morning Keith was utterly determined to not make eye contact. His sleepless night had filled his head with dread of what would happen the next time he saw Lance.

That Lance would take one look at him and just _know_ that it was him he met the night before in the bathing area. Know that Keith had been the one behind the mask, who stood between Lance’s thighs and fucked himself stupid on his soft hands.

It was harder than he thought it would be- ignoring Lance’s existence. He could feel the Blue Paladin’s eyes burning a hole into the side of his head and he was almost tempted to turn and meet his gaze...but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do it because what if Lance _did_ know? What if he figured it out? Keith doesn’t know if he could take the pity, the disgust, the _hatred_ he’d see in Lance’s eyes.

So ignoring seemed like the easier path, Keith’s done that plenty of times before, right? But despite his weak conviction he couldn’t bring himself to focus on the meeting. Shiro and Kolivan’s voices both sounded like distant garbles. His Blade of Marmora suit seemed uncomfortably tight, and a nervous flash of heat was coursing through his body. He knew from Kolivan’s side glance that he’d be asking about his behavior when they returned back to base later that night.

But Keith bore it. He sat still despite his desire to fidget. Kept eyes forward and didn’t once let them wander back to Lance ,who’d taken to starting a whisper conversation with a brightly smiling Hunk.

The meeting felt like it dragged on for hours, the entirety of the conversation being about team placement and rearranging a few Blade Members to serve as support for Voltron. Keith can’t fully recall, his focus had been inconsistent since he arrived back on the Castle. But when Allura finally called it to a closing, Keith was the first one out the door. He immediately summoned his identity protection mask and raised his hood, feet leading him in the direction of the training deck.

Going a few rounds with the gladiator would calm his nerves, or at least calm him enough to not feel like he had to constantly look over his shoulder like Lance was waiting to jump him. That much Keith needed, he had to pull himself out of his headspace and _focus_. Just because he and Lance...messed around a little, didn’t mean he could just let his focus flounder. He had a job and he had to do it right or else everyone else would suffer the consequences.

He just had to stop thinking about it.

XxX

Apparently it was incredibly easy to stop personal reflections when you were being pounded to a pulpy mess by numerous robots.

Keith managed to get out of the ring of pain and call out a termination of the session. Other than a slightly sore abdomen where he’d taken a knee to the gut- he was fine. But most importantly he was _focused_.

Lance hadn’t crossed his mind once during the session and that was good enough for Keith. So gathering himself he made his way out of the deck. Who knows how long he’d been in there? It was like his mind entered a completely different plane, one that had him utterly focused on the task at hand.

As he made his way through the halls, intent on finding Kolivan or maybe even Shiro, his mind was quiet. There was no sudden image of Lance being forced into his brain, no tingling down his spine as he recalled how Lance’s body felt against his-

“Hey!”

Keith startled at the sudden shout, flinching as he whipped around to find the source of the voice. Lance was jogging towards him from down the hall, a wide smile on his face.

Keith instantly felt his throat close up, mouth going dry.

God, he was so _fucked._

His legs felt like lead, freezing him in place, and forcing him to wait as Lance sped up to reach him, eyes sparkling in excitement.

“I looked for you after the meeting was adjourned.” Lance informs him, smile softening slightly as he stopped in front of Keith.

Keith made a weak noise in his throat, eyes as wide as dinner plates from behind his mask.

Lance continued to smile, fidgeting slightly and pulling on his green jacket as he took a step closer to Keith, pressing his chest lightly against Keith’s armour, just like he did _last night_.

“I gotta say, you’re a tough cookie to track down.” Lance says, voice low.

Keith swallows thickly.

“But it’s okay!” Lance exclaims, wide smile stretching across his face. “All I had to do was keep an eye out for the little guy!”

Keith feels the bubbling pool of nerves in his stomach instantly calm down, replaced, instead, by indignation. Lance must sense his incensed spirit since he immediately laughs lightly, shoulders shaking in amusement as he laid a calming hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“It’s okay.” he assures, voice sweet as he gazes down into Keith’s covered features. “There’s nothing wrong with being a little small.” At his words his smile instantly turns more mischievous. “It’s like I always say,” he adds, leaning down to croon into Keith’s ear, “it’s not the size that counts- _it’s how you use it_.”

Keith can feel the heat rising to his cheeks immediately. If he were to remove his mask he would be able to feel Lance’s hot breath caress his ear and brush against his neck.

The thought makes his pulse speed up, head going fuzzy at the thought. As Lance pulls away, glossy lips stretched in a cheeky grin- Keith feels something in him collapse. Before he can hesitate, he reaches forward, latching a hand onto Lance’s wrist and begins tugging him forward.

Lance follows with a slight sound of surprise as Keith drags them forward, something like desperation beating in his chest. He carefully turns corner after corner, watching out for inquisitive eyes. Finally spotting his old room, he immediately makes a beeline for it. The unlocked door opens promptly at sensing his presence and Keith powers into it, a dazed Lance scurrying in after him.

As soon as it clicks shut behind them, Keith feels his heart speed up, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he turns around to face Lance. He feels like a teenager sneaking their boyfriend into his room while his parents are home- which is technically true (even if Keith’s heart skips a beat at the word ‘boyfriend’). Lance is looking around in interest, eyes lingering on the bed as he takes a step forward.

“This used to be my teammate’s room.” He offers, stepping into Keith’s embrace, arms lightly resting on Keith’s shoulders. “You might know him, his name’s Keith. He’s kinda short, has a lame haircut, and always has this dumb look on his face.” Lance says, listing off traits on his fingers.

Keith raises a brow from behind his mask.

Lance eventually stops letting his eyes linger around the room and turns his attention to Keith. The former Red Paladin lets his hands trail down to Lance’s hips, giving them a firm squeeze as a trickle of desire rushed through him.

“Ya know what’d be really uncool?” Lance asks, forehead resting lightly against Keith’s. Keith makes an inquisitive noise, eyes slipping closed at the feeling of Lance in his arms and mouth so close to his. “Fucking in my former teammate’s bed.”

Keith’s eyes snapped open.

“Now normally I’d say that’s a total disrespect of the bro code.” Lance adds conversationally as he begins slowly  backing Keith in the direction of his bed. “But that was before that _jerk_ refused to even say ‘Hi’.” Lance says, a pout curling at his lips. Keith isn’t able to get a single word in before the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he goes tumbling down, bouncing slightly on the mattress. Keith pushes himself up on his elbows as Lance crawls on top of him, sitting softly on his stomach, thighs keeping Keith trapped under him.

Lance is gazing down at him, eyes cloudy and lip caught between his teeth, cheeks a light rose.

“Is...Is this okay?” He asks, more nervous than Keith has ever seen him.

Without hesitating, Keith immediately nods.

XxX

Lance goes so slow it’s almost like torture.

His hips grind down on Keith’s dick in sluggish circles as he rests both his hand on Keith’s chest. Occasionally Lance will snap his hips forward, the drag of his jeans drawing a moan out of Keith as he holds onto Lance’s thighs. Keith is trying to steady his breathing, taking slow draws of air through his nose as Lance teases him, edging him on. Keith grips Lance’s thighs so tightly he’s sure it must sting.

Unable to take it anymore, Keith forms one of his hands into a half fist, pushing it against Lance’s crotch and dragging the heel of his hand against his dick. Lance’s hips stutter and his back arches as he tries to follow Keith’s hands.

Keith wanted _more_ and if Lance was trying to drag this out then he’d have a hard time doing it because Keith wasn’t a patient sort of person.

Lance must’ve figured that out considering the grin he shot him as he raised his hips and began unbuttoning his jeans. Keith immediately followed after him, releasing the slit at the front of his suit and pulling out his more than eager length.

Lance’s comfortable weight disappears and Keith almost voices a protest when he sees Lance wiggling out of his pants like a snake, blue briefs sliding down alongside them. Keith swallows the ball forming in his throat at the sight of Lance’s tanned dick, curling up slightly and practically at full mast. Dark brown curls are neatly trimmed at the base and Keith watches, with a dry mouth, as Lance begins stroking himself.

Keith shifts into a more comfortable position, watching with wide eyes as Lance peeled off his jacket, tossing it beside him, and pulled off his shirt, messing up his hair as he tugged it over his head.

“I have some lube in my pocket.” Lance informs him, smiling as climbed back on top of Keith. Keith refused to take his eyes off Lance and instead felt around for said item, taking him a couple tries before he was able to draw it out into shaking hands and offering it to Lance. Lance leans down and gives a quick peck to his mask before rising back up and squirting a pink gel out onto his fingers.

“You would not _believe_ the hoops I had to jump through to get this.” Lance murmurs, sliding his fingers together. Keith doesn’t think he could say anything if he tried. “You’d think alien space malls would be overflowing with sex stores because I mean what mall isn’t?”

Keith gets the feeling Lance isn’t looking for an actual answer.

Lance takes a moment, looking down at Keith, before reaching a greased hand behind him. Keith bites his lip, breath stuttering as he watches Lance’s wrist move in little circles, likely trying to relax his hole before pushing a finger in. Keith reached his own hands forward, laying each one on Lance’s ass cheeks. Giving them a quick squeeze, he spread them, giving Lance better access because damn it Keith wasn’t some selfish jerk that would make Lance do all the work.

Lance shoots him a grateful smile before furrowing his brows in concentration, a light moan escaping him. Keith feels his dick twitch in response to the sound and unconsciously hold his breath as Lance’s hips begin softly thrusting forward, head glistening with precum. Keith licked his lips, mourning this inability to lean forward and lick the droplets off.

What face would Lance make if he did?

Keith doesn’t get much time to continue his fantasy before he feels Lance wrap his fingers around his dick in a firm grip.

Keith chokes on his own spit.

Lance gives a light chuckle at his reaction, beaming down at him with a sweet smile, eyes soft as he swirled Keith’s head against his rim. Keith held his breath, shoulders tensing as Lance pushed him through the ring of muscles, slowly sinking down on him as his warm insides wrapped around Keith’s dick like a glove.

It was good. It was _so so good._ It was everything Keith had ever _dreamed_ of, everything he ever _wanted_ and more.

Keith released a raspy groan when Lance bottomed out, his body going still above Keith as he adjusted to Keith’s thickness inside him. Keith’s hands immediately took their place on Lance’s hips, helping to steady him as rose up, dragging Keith’s dick out if him before _slamming_ back down.

 _“Shit!”_ Lance cursed as Keith grunted, eyes slipping closed as he dug his nails into the meat of Lance’s hips. As Lance begins to rise again Keith thrust his hips up to meet him, pulling Lance down on him to meet his thrusts.

“O-oh shit.” Lance moaned, eyes slipping closed in bliss as Keith sped up, dragging his hips down before forcing them back up. The pink of the lube began coating Keith’s dick in a thin film, appearing and disappearing as Keith repeatedly  forced the thick of him into Lance.

Lance was gripping him so tight, slouching down and lying on top of him. His breathy gasps and whines escaping every time Keith drove back in, desperate to show Lance, show Lance how much he cared for him, how much he _loved_ him.

Keith grit his teeth in effort, hips beginning to ache as he pushed into Lance,

 _“A-ah ah,”_ Lance whimpered against Keith’s neck. “Touch me.” He breathed, pressing his dick against Keith’s stomach. “ _Please_ ,” He whispered, voice right on the edge of begging.

Keith immediately lifted one of his hands off Lance’s hip, lowering it down to snake between them where he wrapped it around Lance’s aching length.

As soon as his hand made contact with the hot flesh Lance hissed, burying his face in the crook of Keith’s neck.

Keith desperately wanted to whisper assurances to Lance, tell him how he’d get him there, how he’d help him, make him feel so good- just like he’s making Keith feel. But as he tried, the words died in his throat, his hesitation too strong, his _fear_ too strong.

As Keith twisted his wrist, trying to match the pace of stroking Lance and thrusting into him, he could feel his own end approaching. The tightening in his gut growing stronger the harder he thrust into Lance’s dripping heat.

No. Not yet. Not until Lance-

Lance suddenly forced his hips down, arching his back as he released a drawn out moan against the plate of Keith’s armour. Keith didn’t get a chance to form a coherent thought before Lance began squeezing around him, his hot insides gripping him tight as he came into Keith’s gloved hand. Keith felt his thighs strain as he pushed as far into Lance as he could go, white light bursting behind his eyelids as he released into Lance, painting his insides white with his hot cum.

Lance gyrated against him, working his hips with his head down as he tried to milk Keith through his orgasm.

Even as Keith began to go soft, Lance kept up his gentle rocking, weakened length rubbing against his stomach. Lance walked the fine line of overstimulating Keith’s spent dick, the drag of wet insides nearly painful, but Keith wouldn’t pull Lance off him not even if Kolivan himself walked through his door.

Keith tried to maintain his steady breathing as Lance continued to work himself on Keith, even as Lance began peppering kisses down his throat, even as he lifted Keith’s hands onto his hips, encouraging him to hug him closer.

Keith could be good. He could be so good if Lance gave him a chance, gave him a _fraction_ of a chance.

But Keith knew that day would never come. And this is all he could have.

Lance eventually pulled away, Keith’s soft length easily slipping out of him and letting a waterfall of cum race down his tan thigh.

Lance gave him a final smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his “lips” before getting up and beginning to locate his clothes, all while Keith lay on the bed, breathing hard, limp dick out, and feeling thoroughly besotted.

Keith watched as Lance carefully dressed (not even wiping away Keith’s streaks of cum) and gave him a fond look before exiting the room with a slight hitch in his step.

Keith doesn’t know how long he lay on his old bed, staring at the ceiling of his old room.

Keith knew it was wrong. He knew what he was doing (what he _just did_ ) was so, so, _so_ wrong.

But God if it didn’t feel so _right_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keith is muy desesperado and i love it.  
> XxX  
> come and give me the business on [my tumblr](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which lance thinks he might be catching feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think ive got the style im going to write this fic in- it'll be almost a flip flopping sort of perspective where it goes between lance and keith.

Alright so Lance sometimes, on occasion, had the tendency to think with his dick first. But it’s not like it ever led to something bad! (That thing with Nyma didn’t count).

So what if Lance was fooling around with someone in the Blade of Marmora? Last he checked- there wasn’t exactly a ‘No bumping bellies with members of the Voltron Coalition’ rule. So as far as Lance was concerned, Shiro, Allura, and Kolivan couldn’t drag his ass about it. (Not that they would ever find out, but it was the _principle_ of the thing that mattered).

And what _did_ matter was that Lance McClain was getting _some_ . It’d been a rough couple months for the Blue Paladin ever since he left Earth. His usual charm was falling flat, Allura was pushing them harder and harder everyday, _Keith_ was ignoring him, and he’d recently run out his favorite hair conditioner that he got as a gift from one of the planet’s they rescued!

So yeah- Lance felt like he has _earnt_ the right to enjoy himself a little.

He’d woken up the morning after meeting with his masked companion in the Castle’s Spa feeling more refreshed than he ever has, body tingling in satisfaction as he recalled one of the _nicest_ nights he’s had in a long time. (Even if his spine did still hurt a little from being pressed against a faucet).

But the thing was, Lance _knew_ that his nighttime rendezvous was probably a one-time deal. That the chances of him getting a repeat were significantly low, because as much fun as he may have had, he still had zero clue about who it had been- only that the Galra was on the short side and had nice, thick thighs Lance would _love_ to have wrapped around his head any day of the week.

Yet even knowing that, he still felt his eyes wander during the joint meeting between the Blade of Marmora and Voltron. Instinctively he’d felt his eyes latch onto Keith who’d taken a seat across from him and seemed more uncomfortable than usual. He was pointedly avoiding Lance’s gaze, instead choosing to keep his eyes locked on the front of the room where Allura was giving her presentation. A sting of hurt made its way into his chest at the blatant dismissal. Sure Keith had been distant lately, Lance _understood-_ being forced into a leadership role, then having Shiro return, and then joining in on missions with the Blade to find himself wasn’t an easy feat...but he could’ve at least given Lance a _‘hello’_ or a _‘how ya been?’_ maybe even a simple _‘glad to see you’re still alive after not seeing you these last few weeks’_.

But nope. All Lance got was a cold shoulder.

Lance feels his lips purse, mouth clenched to avoid saying something that would come back to bite him.

Whatever.

If Keith wanted to go on and pretend like Lance did something wrong then let him. At that thought Lance instantly turns his chair around to face Hunk, making sure to whisper in a low voice so Allura wouldn’t catch them.

Hunk’s bright smiles and soft voice manage to soothe away his slight annoyance in a matter of minutes. Pretty soon Keith is the last thing on his mind.

XxX

As soon as the meeting was over, Lance couldn’t help but let his gaze wash over the various Blades all rising from their seats or pushing away from their positions against a wall. Allura, Shiro, and Kolivan are murmuring to one another, heads tucked in close as they talked about whatever it was leaders in a rebellion talked about.

Hunk gives him a light clap on his back before he leaves, exiting the room to return to whatever genius endeavour or joint project he and Pidge were working on

After team meetings like these, Lance would usually go back to his room and nap until dinner. The sleep guaranteeing him a couple extra hours in case Allura decided to pull some bullshit and wake them up in the middle of the night for a surprise training session.

But for some reason he wasn’t feeling particularly tired. Instead, his gaze was sharp as he scanned through the crowd of Galra still in the room and the ones leaving, likely heading to the ship bay. Before Lance could stop himself, he felt his feet slowly carry him to every corner of the room, eyes looking each of the Blades up and down as he tried to find a familiar stature. A few of the Blades caught him giving them a probing gaze, their heads tilted in question as they watched him make his way through the room. Lance’s ears flushed in slight embarrassment at being caught but eventually moved on, following a small group of the Marmorans as they left the room, heading in the direction of the ship bay.

But a scan of the room holding the reaminging Blades proved equally fruitless. Lance felt his shoulders slump down slightly in disappointment, legs carrying him away and back in the direction of his room.

What was he thinking? Going looking for his mystery Galra, anyway? Did he think they’d be up for a ‘Round 2’ with him? Lance frowns, freezing in place as he gazed down at the ground. He shouldn’t be so clingy- he barely knew the Galra, he didn’t even know their _name_! But here he was, stalking random Blades and hoping they’d somehow lead him back to his one time deal.

Man no wonder he always got dumped back on Earth.

Just as Lance was about to continue making his way back to his room, a slight movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention. Lance lifted his head, inclining it to the side and taking in the sight of a _small statured_ Blade of Marmora at the end of the hall, their back to Lance. A sudden happiness began to fill his chest at the sight and before he could resist, Lance was already calling out to them.

“Hey!” He yelled brightly, feet already beginning to carry him in their direction. The Blade startles, jumping in surprise before whipping around to face Lance. Lance feels his grin stretch further across his face at the identity protecting mask adorning their face.

“I looked for you after the meeting was adjourned.” Lance informs them as he slows to a stop, smile softening with an edge of nervousness, hoping they didn’t interpret it as ‘I thirstily looked for you as soon as everyone was done talking, even following a few of your friends.’

The Blade continues to stare at him, stance giving nothing away as Lance fidgets slightly.

“I gotta say, you’re a tough cookie to track down.” He says, voice low as he leans in closer, _really_ hoping he doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels. The Blade swallows thickly and Lance feels a smidge of confidence begin to grow.

“But it’s okay!” He says loudly, grin becoming genuine as he wiped his sweaty palms on his jacket. “All I had to do was keep an eye out for the little guy!”

At this the Blade tenses and Lance can practically see their indignant expression.

“It’s okay.” He laughs, voice soft as he feels warmth flood into his chest. “There’s nothing wrong with being a little small.” He assures even as he feels an impish grin begin to creep across his face. “It’s like I always say,” he begins leaning down to whisper in his Galra’s ear, “it’s not the size that counts- _it’s how you use it_.”

Lance leans back, giddiness settling into his gut as he watches the Blade in front of him tremble slightly, their shoulders shivering at the action. Lance is about to invite the Blade back to his room, maybe see if he _would_ be interested in a ‘Round 2’, when the Marmoran suddenly snatches his hand, dragging him forward in some unknown direction. Lance yelps in surprise but doesn’t resist, running alongside the Blade as he leads them down the hall, turning corner after corner.

A wide grin begins to tug at Lance’s cheeks, a heart pumping excitement filling him as he races alongside someone he desires- there’s something so strangely _invigorating_ about being carted around and _knowing_ what was in store. Lance feels exhilaration continue to buzz in his chest as his mystery Galra stops in front of a door, quickly pulling Lance in once it opened. As Lance steps through he feels his smile become somewhat strained as he takes in the room.

The Marmoran releases his hand, turning around to face him as Lance slowly takes in the room.

“This used to be my teammate’s room.” He offers without thinking, stepping forward and wrapping the Blades arms around his waist. “You might know him,” he begins, “his name’s Keith. He’s kinda short, has a lame haircut, and always has this dumb look on his face.” He says, listing traits off on his fingers and hoping the bitterness he feels doesn’t make it into his voice.

Lance takes another short glance around the room. The bed is made, the shelves have been wiped clean, the floor was clear of any dust or dirt. It was like the room had never been touched. A trickle of resentment makes its way into Lance’s chest. Lance almost loses himself to the feeling when a sudden squeeze to his hips brings him back.

“Ya know what’d be really uncool?” Lance asks, letting his forehead lightly tap the mask of the Blade holding him. The Galra in front of him releases a questioning chuff and Lance feels a smirk begin to make its way across his face. “Fucking in my former teammate’s bed.” He whispers, voice going hoarse as he feels desire begin to tingle low in his gut.

“Now normally I’d say that’s a total disrespect of the bro code.” Lance begins, amiably as he slowly begins to maneuver the Blade in the direction of Keith’s bed. “But that was before that jerk refused to even say _‘Hi’_.” Lance adds, sulking slightly before swishing it away and pushing the Galra back on the bed. As they pushed themselves up on their elbows, Lance crawled up on the bed to join the, sitting down on the armoured Blade’s stomach.

Lance feels the flash of lust rush through him as he gazes down at the Blade, hands resting gently on their breastplate.

“Is...Is this okay?” He asks, the nerves he’s been feeling the entire time showing themselves. Lance doesn’t know what’d he do if it wasn’t.

But instead, the Marmoran gazing up at him from behind their mask immediately nods.

XxX

Lance admits he’s a bit of a romantic. He likes long walks on the beach, candlelit dinners, kissing in the rain, and slow, soft sex that takes up the entire night.

But he had like thirty minutes before Kolivan would note the absence of his missing Blade so he was on a bit of a time crunch.

But still- he couldn’t resist slowly grinding against the Blade lying under him, their pleasure completely at his mercy. Lance manages to steadily work small moans out of his _‘friend’_ as he lets his hips gyrate slowly, feeling his jeans drag against the clear hardening length held back by the dark bodysuit.

Lance grins as the Galra’s hips began to thrust softly, chasing the gentle pressure as it drags away from them. _God_ , what’d he’d give for the chance to work them up into a frenzy, giving into them bit by _agonizing_  bit until they were _begging_ for it. Lance snaps his hips forward, getting a breathy gasp in response. A cheeky grin settles itself onto his face.

Just as he’s about to do it _again_ , a sudden pressure on his dick has him freezing in place. The Blade under him is pushing the heel of their hand against Lance’s hardened length. Lance feels his hips stutter, mouth falling open slightly at the stimulation. He’d been so focused on the Blade lying under him he’d completely ignored his own _little problem_.

The Galra repeats the action, movement almost insistent as it pushed so _nicely_ against Lance’s crotch.

 _Oh_. Impatient were they?

Lance grins, fingers immediately moving to the button and zipper of his jeans. The Blade immediately follows his demonstration, opening the slit of their suit and whipping out their weeping dick. Pearls of white precum are already beading at the slit, head a bright red and Lance almost wants to wince because _damn_ that looks like it hurts.

But that thought is almost immediately replaced by pride because _he fucking did that._

Lance whips away the rest of his clothes as fast he can without trying to seem desperate even though he _is_.

His own voice feels miles away- informing the Blade that there’s lube in his pocket, feeling the bottle being pressed into his hand, pecking the mask of the Blade in thanks- it all seems to happen like some huge hallucination. The jittery feeling in the pit of his gut that always shows up whenever he’s naked in front of someone else is just...gone. There’s no nervousness tingling under his skin, no doubt whispering in the back of his mind, no worry about the ‘morning after’.

There’s just...calm.

Calm- even as the Blade spread his cheeks for him, giving him better access. Lance breathes slowly through his nose, fingers slipping in and out of him, stretching himself out for the weeping cock waiting for him.

Lance’s face feels warm, a strange euphoria filling him as he gazes down at the Galra under him.

Man...he is so fucking _gone_.

Without really noticing, Lance feels himself wrap a hand around the Galra’s dick- their surprised choke only motivating him further. Lance breaths slowly as lets the head circles his rim, his wet hole almost _dripping_ as he sinks down, taking the length inch by inch. He’d stretched himself out enough to feel the slightest drag of resistance as he bottomed out, his ass resting gently against the Galra’s covered thighs. Lance closed his eyes, letting himself marvel at how fucking _full_ he felt. Stopping for only a second, Lance waiting until he felt he was ready to raise himself up again, the Galra’s hands on his hips helping him. Just as he felt the length begin to _just barely_ leave, he slammed back down- a wheeze escaping the Galra as Lance’s insides tightened around the dick inside him.

“ _Shit_ !” Lance cursed, a spark of pleasure flashing in his gut. Lance lifted his hips, grinning at the steady _drag_ of the Galran length leaving him. But Lance didn’t get a chance-

A moan was ripped out of him as the Blade underneath him thrust their hips up, forcing their length _deep_ into him.

“O-oh shit.” Lance whimpered, light flashing behind his eyelids at the action. Lance didn’t even get a chance to catch his breath before the Galra did it again, and _again_ , and **_again_ **.

Lance’s mouth fell open into a silent gasp, body rocking with the force of the Blade’s thrusts.

Now, Lance had had full plans to ride the Marmoran underneath him within an inch of their life. But as he lay slumped over, arms locked around his hips, and face buried in the Blade’s shoulder. It seemed like _he_ was the one getting ridden.

Lance whined as the Galra slid into him again, the force of their thrust hitting the edge of his prostate and having him seeing _stars_. Lance tightened his grip on the Blade, holding on for dear life because dammit- it was like the Blade fucked the same way they fought.

Roughly, with power, and so much fucking _passion_.

“Touch me.” He breathed, voice dancing on the very edge of demanding. “ _Please_ .” He begged, tears beginning to spring into his eyes because he was close, he could feel it, he was close, he was close, _hewasclosesososoclose_.

A gloved hand made contact with his aching length and Lance almost, honest to God _cried_ . Their grip was _tight_ as they stroked him in time with their thrusts. Lance was practically weeping into the crook of their neck, mind numbing pleasure building up in his gut- he so fucking close, he could _taste-_

A loud cry ripped out of Lance, eyes screwing shut as he immediately thrust his hips down, length of the Galra _filling_ him as he rode out his orgasm. A pleasure filled tingle filling every inch of his body as he spilled into the Blade’s hands. Lance breathed heavily, moans muffled by the breastplate of the Blade.

As reason returned to him, he could feel an undeniable _wetness_ deep inside him, the Galra’s dick still releasing weak spurts of warm cum into him as Lance pushed himself up on his hands.

Lance had lost his cool. That much was true- because apparently his newfound lover possessed some kind of demon dick that gave Lance the fuck of a lifetime. But Lance was not a person that was to be one-upped.

Gently, and without trying to put further strain on his hole, he began to softly rock against the Blade. Their hands instantly tightened around his hips. Lance could feel the length inside him slowly softening, the weakened cock steadily being coated in lube and cum as Lance let his hips grind with the _slightest_ bit of pressure. As he continued to work himself on the softened dick, Lance encouraged the Blade to hug him closer, peppering kisses up and down their throat.

 _God_ , what Lance would give to work the Galra back to hardness. Letting only the warmth of his insides and glide of leftover cum bring him back.

Lance could feel the tightness of the Blade’s thighs as Lance nearly, _nearly_ got their spent dick ready.

But they were on a time crunch. And with an inaudible sigh, Lance let the length slide out of him, cum and lube immediately racing down his thigh. Lance breathed slowly through his nose, hoping he didn’t look nearly as tired as he felt. It seemed like the Blade was pretty spent, their chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, dick flopping down immediately after it left Lance.

Lance smiled softly, leaning back down and plant a soft kiss against their mouth, not for the first time wishing he was met with lips as opposed to cold metal. With fondness is his heart, Lance began to dress, not having the energy to wipe the mess coating his thighs.

As soon as he finished pulling on his jacket, he turned to leave, stopping only once he was at the door. He gazed back at the fucked out Blade lying sprawled out on Keith’s bed and felt a sincere affection fill him. With a small wave of his hand he wasn’t sure the Blade saw, he left.

The ache of his lower back and a slight limp made him feel almost thankful the Blade had accidentally led them to Keith’s room, since his was just another door down.

Upon arriving to his room, Lance immediately flopped down on his stomach, hand blindly reaching for his pillow to tuck under his head because if he hadn’t been sleepy before- than he certainly was _now_.

As Lance let his eyes slip closed, consciousness already leaving him- he couldn’t help but think about how nice it felt to be held by that Blade, to be fucked by them.

And for a single moment- Lance almost let himself wonder what it’d be like to be loved by someone like that.

XxX

Kolivan and the Blades of Marmora were gone when Lance woke up.

The other’s eyes had shone in slight concern when Lance had offered them a strained smile at dinner.

Because the thing was that Lance knew, he _knew_ that they couldn’t exactly see each other everyday. Sure their groups were allied, but they were still part of _seperate_ groups. Plus as far as Lance knew, the other Blade probably saw this as some side fun- which it _was_.

So then...why..why was there some part of him that felt disappointed when Allura had informed him that the Blade of Marmora had left the Castle hours ago.

As Lance picked at his goo, feeling relatively uninterested despite his usual ravenous hunger, he could feel the stares of his teammates growing stronger.

“What’s wrong, bud?” Hunk finally managed to ask, eyes filled with concern as Lance lifted his head to meet his gaze.

“Yeah!’ Pidge agreed from beside Shiro, eyes wide in curiosity before slowly transforming into grinning mischief. “Do ya’ miss Keiittthhh?” They ask, drawing out his name as they stared down the table at Lance.

Almost immediately Lance feels his sadness be washed away by annoyance.

“As if!” He replies, scoffing slightly as he raised a spoonful of goo to his mouth. “That jerk didn’t even bother saying ‘Hi’ to me! Why would I _miss_ that mullet wearing asshole?!”

As Lance continued on his tirade, stuffing the occasional spoonful of goo into his mouth, he didn’t notice the wave of relief that swept through the table.

Because as far as everyone else was concerned, if Lance could still get worked up at the sound of a certain Red Paladin’s name- then everything would be just fine.

XxX

It was weeks before Voltron and the Blade of Marmora had another joint mission together.

Sure there had been the occasional communication line between Allura, Shiro, and Kolivan to make sure they were all coordinated. But it’s not like _Lance_ was present during those calls.

As soon as Shiro has announced that they’d be hosting the Blade of Marmora for a few days while both groups collaborated on retaking another system form the Galra- Lance’s mind had instantly turned to his new lover.

The moment Shiro dismissed them from the training deck, Lance had immediately sped away to the lower decks of the ship, itching to scrub the sweat and grime from his skin.

Shiro was good with giving them a few hours heads up before any sort of guests would be arriving to the Castle, so Lance _knew_ he had plenty of time to bathe and get dressed.

Yet as soon as the words ‘Blade of Marmora’ left Shiro’s mouth, Lance’s brain was on high alert. His mind flashing through all sorts of images.

Would it be too presumptuous of him to stretch himself out? The Spa of the Castle had bottles upon bottle of thick body oils with sweet and spicy scents. It wouldn’t be too much trouble to finger himself a bit while he lounged in in one of the warm tubs.

As Lance bit his lip in thought, hand hovering somewhat indecisively between his legs, he thought back to the Blade and how they’d reacted both times to Lance touching them.

Lance wasn’t blind, he _knew_ when someone wanted him. And that Blade, definitely, for sure _did_. So without hesitating for another second, Lance let his fingers begin to probe his hole, the thoughts of the last time he’d seen his lover filling his mind.

Lance wasn’t ashamed to admit that those memories had been lovingly recalled multiple times throughout the last few weeks. He also wasn’t afraid to admit the multiple times he’d been forced to sneak out of his room in the middle of the night and wash his sheets.

As Lance let his oil slicked fingers slide into him, curling them as he dragged them out, and letting them tug the slightest bit on his rim-he couldn’t stop the wave of anticipation and excitement that settled in his gut.

A smile made its way onto Lance’s face, eyes closing as he tried to recall the feeling of strong arms hugging him to a warm body.

XxX

Lance was the last to arrive to the ship bay, hair still wet and jacket half on just as the ship carrying the Blades of Marmora touched down on it’s pre-designated area.

Lance doesn’t know why they couldn’t just call it a ‘parking space’.

The Hunk, Pidge, and Coran are standing together in a line, with Shiro and Allura both a few steps in front of them. A bubble of nervousness begins to swirl in Lance’s stomach as the belly of the Marmoran ship popped open and, steadily, the Blades began making their way out, each of them in perfect formation with Kolivan leading. He absently notes that Keith isn’t striding beside Kolivan as he always does whenever the Blade arrives.

From the expressions of the others, they’re also confused. But it’s not like Keith acting out of sorts without warning any of them is some new revelation.

Lance is bouncing his leg in anticipation as he carefully watches each Blade exiting the ship, almost all of them of about the same height. Lance bites his lip, fingers tugging at the loose strings of his jacket. Slowly, they each march down, identity protection masks raised. But none of them have the build that he’s looking for- the familiar one, the one that can hold Lance in their arms without dwarfing him.

Just as his shoulders are about to slump in disappointment,- a final figure emerges from the ship, their identity protecting mask raised, and build much _slimmer_ than the others strolling out. Instantly Lance feels his eyes lock onto them. The Blade hangs at the back of the group, mainly unnoticed, as Allura and Shiro greet Kolivan. Lance watches as their head slowly turns in his direction.

He doesn’t know how, but he can tell the Galra’s eyes are locked on him. Without feeling a moment of hesitation, Lance’s lips tug into a smile, raising his hand and waving softly in the other Blade’s direction. Almost immediately, the Blade returns the action and Lance feels something like anticipation begin to settle in his gut, skin tingling in excitement as he waited for Allura and the others to wrap up their greeting.

By now Lance knows the usual routine- Kolivan will go off with Shiro and Allura ( a few other Blades by his side), Hunk and Pidge will return to their latest projects, Coran will return to the helm of the Castleship (helping to organize sleeping arrangements for Blades who don’t want to retire to their ship), and Lance usually sneaks an early dinner snack from the kitchen before returning to his room and jamming out to his playlist.

Oh he’d be going back to his room alright.

Lance watches as the ship bay slowly empties, his Blade remaining behind until the two were the only ones left.

He just wouldn’t be going back _alone_.

XxX

It was easier than Lance thought it would be to sneak the Blade into his room. This time, he’d been the one tugging them through the halls, awkwardly manuevering them and ducking quickly into alcoves when he spotted another figure turning a corner. Pidge had been walking down the hall where his room was located, but as soon as she turned away and out of sight, Lance was pulling the Blade behind him, keeping his eyes peeled on both ends of the corridor to make sure there weren’t any stray observers. But despite the close call, Lance had been able to shuffle into his room undetected and without any witnesses.

Stepping in, he felt the Blade come up behind him, wrapping their arms around Lance’s waist and softly resting his head on Lance’s shoulder. Lance feels his excited grin soften into something fonder and gently lays his own hands on top of the Blade’s.

Taking a slow breath, Lance turns his head and whispers into his lover’s ear.

“I’ve missed you.” He says sincerely, turning slowly in the Blade’s warm arms. He feels a shiver race down their spine and tucks his head into their shoulder, closing his eyes as he lay his hands on the other’s hips. “I’ve thought about you,” he whispers, “every night since you left.”

The Blade’s hands tightly gripped Lance’s hips, their fingers leaving impressions as Lance began slowly kissing their covered neck.

“I’ve missed how you felt _inside_ me.” He murmurs, smiling as a groan erupted from the Blade. “I’ve missed how you _held_ me.” He adds, nuzzling the Blade’s neck as he tugged off his green jacket and let it slide to the floor. “I’ve missed your _hands_ .” He breathes, slowly dragging his hands up the Marmoran armour. “If missed your beautiful _cock_.” He moans as the Blade gives his ass a tight squeeze. Lance raises his head, staring at the lights of the mask and leaning forward without any hesitation.

Just as he opens his mouth to kiss the familiar ‘face’, a hand stops him. Lance freezes, eyes going wide as he slowly pulled away from the gloved hand serving as a block between him and the mask.

Lance releases a confused noise from deep in throat, hurt beginning to drum in his ears as the Blade stepped away.

Lance lets him.

Lance is watching with wide, dazed eyes as his Blade reaches down with one of his hands and begins deftly untying a long piece of dark cloth that was tied around their wrist. Lance tilts his head, confusion still filling him to the brim, but hurt not as burning as his Blade lifted the cloth, offering it to Lance.

Lance accepts it without hesitation.

The material seems thin, almost sheer, but Lance can’t see his fingers through it. It’s soft, like silk, slipping easily between his fingers as he gingerly stroked it.

“What is this?” Lance asks, looking up at the Blade in confusion. The Blade’s form is tense, shoulders raised in some sort of anticipation as they reach forward and lift the cloth from Lance’s hands.

Lance watches, slightly bewildered as he lays it lightly over one of Lance’s eyes before gesturing to his mask and then making a motion for ‘down’.

It takes Lance a moment to understand what his Blade is trying to say.

Blindfold.

He wants Lance to be blindfolded.

Blindfolded while his mask is off.

His Blade wants to have sex while Lance is blindfolded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya know i can't believe i never included this fic's namesake -[this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJiL5siOqqw)  
> which i first heard years ago in a trailer for the show 'masters of sex' lmaoo  
> XxX  
> come and give me the business on [my tumblr](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which keith struggles, wonders if the galra can smell shame, and gets laid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyy yall...  
> so like i know its been like 3 weeks since i updated and honestly?? like man i was pretty confused too like usually i can get a chapter done in a week but man for some reason??? i was like way off my game- but dont worry!!!! im back and good as gold!! so you wont need to wait nearly as long for the next chapter I swear!!!!  
> ooohh and this chapter is longer than usual to makeup for lost time <3  
> EDIT: i went back and fixed a couple of spelling mistakes and also changed a few sentences, nothing major though!

Keith has officially sunk to an all new low (and he used to think the worst he’s ever done was sneaking extra food out of the Garrison’s commissary).

He’d reached it when he’d let Lance jack him off in the bathroom or maybe it was when he decided to fuck Lance in his old room- all while Lance thought he was...not himself.

Either way, Keith was for sure the _shittiest_ person he knew. And somehow, he was positive that everyone else knew it too.

He knew it wasn’t possible for Shiro, Kolivan, or anyone to know what he did (he and Lance had covered their tracks well). But once Keith managed to muster the strength to tuck himself back into his suit after Lance left and he made his way to the Blade of Marmora’s transport ship in the Castle’s hanger- there was something...odd about how the other Blades had looked at him.

The moment he stepped into the ship after a short goodbye to the other Paladins he was immediately met with all heads turned in his direction. Their Blade masks prevented him from seeing their expressions but he could tell they were watching him as he made his way to one of the passenger seats behind Kolivan.

“Sorry if I’m late.” He apologizes softly, hoping it was the reason for the strange stares. Kolivan doesn’t reply, instead nodding sharply as Keith buckled in just as the ship began to lift off, lightly jostling them.

“Just make sure you finish...your business earlier next time.” Kolivan finally replies. Keith thinks it was just a chide for his tardiness but the Blade behind him makes a soft noise under their breath, almost like they were choking but not as strangled. It was probably one of those weird ‘Galra chuffs’ he didn’t have the vocal cords for. Keith murmurs another apology and settles back in his seat, trying to avoid shifting too much because of the phantom wetness still coating his dick.

Breathing slowly through his nose, Keith lets his eyes slip closed, trying to catch a short nap before arriving back on the Marmora base. As he steadily drifts off, his brain brings back the image of Lance hovering over him- his soft gasps, and breathless whimpers, the heat of his hands as they cling to Keith, nails digging into his suit as he panted into Keith’s ear.

It was torture.

But Keith loved it.

XxX

Kolivan is the one to shake him awake once they’re back in the Blade’s ship hanger. Keith’s body is heavy with exhaustion, his thighs throbbing with a slight ache as he stands and follows the older Galra out of the ship.

Kolivan has become something like Keith’s new mentor, essentially the Marmoran version of Shiro- both having taken Keith under their wings and attempting to show Keith the ropes in navigating a new page in his life.

So Keith respects Kolivan.

Greatly.

So when Kolivan stops and turns to face Keith with a serious expression once they reach the Paladin’s quarters, Keith instantly straightens up, eyes sharpening as he gazed up at Kolivan with careful attention.

“You are young.” Kolivan begins, intense eyes practically staring down Keith’s _soul_ , “I, like many others understand that cubs entering maturity often find themselves...exploring.” Kolivan says, eyes shining with...with _something_ . Keith feels his head absently nod in agreement even though he feels distinctly lost about what Kolivan is saying, like he’s missing a key piece to the bigger picture that the older Galra is trying to paint.. “But…” Kolivan trails off, taking a step closer and resting a heavy hand on Keith’s shoulder. “...Do well to maintain that personal matters are kept _personal._ ”

At that Kolivan gives him a final look, one filled with unspoken words. And Keith watches, dumbly, as Kolivan turns on his heel and starts away, heading in the direction of the base’s meeting room. It takes Keith a moment to enter his room- mainly because he’s still working through Kolivan’s parting words. The older Blade wasn’t particularly fond of riddles or beating around the bush- most of the time he tells Keith straight up what he expects, what the plan of action is, or what’s going on.

And Keith appreciated the frankness and Kolivan’s general directness.

So the sudden ambiguous words were a bit...perplexing. Mainly because it seemed like a lot for a single tardy- Keith had woken up late to training on the Marmora base several times when he’d first arrived and no one had mentioned that before.

But as Keith stripped down, pulling off his chest plate and leg armour, his mind begins to wander. His bodysuit is peeled away from his slightly sweaty body as he settles back down on his bed, one that’s way larger than the one he had on the castle and somehow more...lonely.

Kolivan and a few of the other Blades had acted strangely as soon as Keith had returned to the ship- at first he’d thought it was because he’d been late but Kolivan’s words and their reactions were coming together to form a different realization than the one Keith had reached.

As Keith finishes pulling his suit off and flops down, head hitting a pillow, his eyes slip closed. His bed is cold, the sheets providing no form of receptive warmth, as if by instinct his mind immediately returns to Lance.

What Keith would’ve given to lay with the Blue Paladin for just a little longer. To have held him in his hands as he drifted to sleep, watching the slow rise of his chest as his breathing evened out. But Keith doubted that even if the Blade hadn’t been leaving he’d have had the chance. Lance was always such a drama queen about where he slept and sheets stinking of sex probably wouldn’t have-

Keith’s eyes snapped open.

No.

There was no way Kolivan and the others would’ve been able to tell what Keith had been doing...was there?

Keith suddenly felt a soup of embarrassment and humiliation begin to bubble in his stomach. Keith hadn’t exactly _checked_ his appearance before he’d left the room, only sticking around long enough to straighten out the blanket and pillow resting on the cot. Had there been jizz on his uniform? A streak of lube? Had they smelt Keith’s sweat? Heard his slightly fatigued breathing as he made his way into the ship? Sensed his elevated pulse that _still_ hadn’t settled back to normal when he’d arrived?

Keith felt himself forcibly swallow a ball of anxiety caught in his throat.

And what Kolivan had said...about being more discreet.

Keith sucked in a sharp breath, turning onto his stomach and burying his face into his pillow, face heating up in _utter_ humiliation.

They knew.

The other Blades _knew_. They knew Keith had been fucking around before leaving the castle and they weren’t dumb, they would’ve (or at least Kolivan would’ve) noticed Lance’s absence at the departure and put two and two together.

_Fuck._

Keith’s groans were easily muffled by his pillow.

As if trying to hide his identity from Lance hadn’t been _pathetic enough-_ now there was a chance that people he _respected_ , people he _trained_ with on a daily basis knew what he’d been doing (even if they didn’t know the details of Keith’s sad and pitiful love life).

Keith sighed, eyes slipping closed as he tried to make the waves in his stomach go away.

It wasn’t the _worst_ thing in the world. Keith had been steadily forming a bond with other members of the Blade, there was a kinship there, one of almost instinctive understanding- they wouldn’t rip on Keith for this.

He _knew_ they wouldn’t.

XxX

He’d been wrong.

As Keith made a slight huffing noise, he settled down on the floor of the training arena, several other Blades following his example as Kolivan finally granted them a well earned break. A few other members were going around and passing out packets of a slightly tangy juice that Keith had not yet learned how to pronounce. As one of them approached him Keith felt himself begin to tense in anticipation.

All throughout the morning, as soon as Keith had left his room, he’d been on the receiving end of what seemed like friendly nudges and head pats. Even Regris, the Blade closest to Keith in age had puffed up in pride when Keith took the seat next to him during their ‘first nourishment’, congratulating Keith on his latest _‘endeavors’_.

Keith doesn’t know how to explain to the other Blades that where he came from people didn’t go around _congratulating_ one another on having sex...well that wasn’t quite true. Keith could easily imagine Lance doing that, shouting to the high heavens that he’d gotten laid. But Keith suspected that Lance’s tune would change in an instant if he found out that he had been with _Keith_.

The thought causes a slight ache to settle in his chest.

The Blade approaching offers Keith the drink packet wordlessly and Keith almost breathes a sigh of relief. But as they move past him, a light pat lands on his head just as the Blade turns to another resting Marmora member.

Keith groans and shoves the flexible straw into his mouth. Maybe he can drown himself with the weird juice and save himself the future humiliation.

XxX

It’s weeks before Keith even hears Voltron being brought up during a meeting.

The Blade was good with keeping Keith busy and his mind off things. But when Keith retreated to his room at night, exhausted and weary- to his bed that felt too big. He just couldn’t help himself.

Memories of Lance- his laughter and smile, his shitty jokes that didn’t always make sense, the  whiny sound he made when Keith drove _deep_ into him, the slight tremble of his body when Keith entered him for the first time-.

Keith ended up making a mess of his sheets so often that he eventually opted to start washing them himself- no use in making the Blades on cleaning duty do extra work just because Keith couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or jack off into a washcloth like a _decent_ person.

The other Blades had eventually simmered down in their weird congratulatory pats and words and Keith was allowed to go about his business and focus more on his tasks without the additional distraction.

But then distraction came in the form of Voltron.

It hadn’t even been a major point of discussion. Just Kolivan mentioning how they may require the assistance of the paladins for an upcoming mission, but that wouldn’t be for another few movements. It’d been so minor in comparison to the infiltration mission they’d been planning but it lodged itself into Keith’s brain anyway.

It’s almost pathetic how smitten he is. That the briefest mention of something associated with Lance is enough to send his mind spiraling. Maybe it was the recent events that had finally broken him. In a weird way Keith almost thought that having sex with Lance would be like a _release_ , that it’d be some bridge to him getting over the other boy and accepting that Lance just...wasn’t into him.

It was a terrible half-cocked plan and Keith wanted to punch his past self for ever thinking it would work.

Either way, Keith couldn’t stop the swarm of feelings that swept through him for the rest of the day. He'd thought being so close to Lance would’ve alleviated _something_ , but all it did was make the pit in his stomach feel heavier. And Keith almost wanted to cry.

For his entire life, he’d never wanted anything.

Did he wish for things?

Yes.

Didn’t everybody?

He wished his mom and dad had been around while he was growing up.

He wished Shiro had never gone to Kerberos.

He wished that he didn’t have to see anymore of his kin die.

But they were called ‘wishes’ for a reason- he knew, deep inside, that they’d never come true- they were tall orders and Keith...was just a person.

But Lance...he _had_ to have a chance.

There had to be some _chance_ that Lance would look at him and see him as _more_ than just a friend or a comrade. The way Lance had looked at him so softly and approached him at every opportunity while he was leader- that had to mean _something_.

Keith wanted that more than _anything_ . Wanted it _so badly_ it hurt.

And maybe Lance was just trying to be a good friend, just doing what anyone else would- and Keith wasn’t special...not even a little.

At the very thought, Keith felt his breath stutter, a slight wheeze leaving him as Kolivan continued pointing at various points of a cruiser blueprint, completely unaware of the half-Galra’s struggle.

God, he was pathetic. Pining so helplessly over someone that probably never even thought of him like that. He had probably never even crossed Lance’s mind the way he did Keith’s.

A flash of pain bloomed in Keith’s chest, his throat throbbing with hurt as he stared down at the meeting table with a distant gaze, Kolivan's voice sounding like it was light years away. His hands lay flat on the table as he tried to reign in the hurt throbbing in his heart.

It was okay.

He was okay.

There wasn’t a special place for him in Lance’s heart and that was _okay_.

Keith took a shaky breath, lifting his face to try to follow along with what Kolivan was saying.

If Lance ever found out that _he_ was the one behind the mask….

Keith felt nervousness begin to swirl in his stomach.

No.

He’d lose everything they had between them- he’d lose the small grins and bright greetings between them, the friendly rivalry that had become more of a game than a competition- all of it would be washed away the minute Lance realized that Keith liked him, _like-liked_ him.

Keith felt a sudden wave of numbness wash over him, hands clenching slightly as he breathed steadily through his nose.

_He could never let Lance know the truth_

XxX

For awhile Keith’s decision had been practically etched in stone. He’d been determined not to think about Lance and what he’d done. Kolivan and the others hadn’t mentioned anything about Keith behaving differently so he’d thought maybe he was in the clear.

But then Kolivan had started his sensory training.

Keith knew he was way behind in terms of the traditional training for a Blade, he’d been making efforts to improve and Kolivan had been his personal tutor for most of the techniques taught to all recruits.

One of those turned out to be sensory training. Galra, apparently, had incredibly keen senses- instincts being more sensitive than most races, and those instincts could tip the balance between life and death on a mission. And so Keith had to learn- more importantly, he had to adapt.

He had to learn to fight blind.

Keith admits that a trickle of doubt ran through him the second Kolivan had placed a sheer looking fabric in his hands following the end of evening nourishment. His hesitation must have been clear on his face because immediately, before Keith could even blink, Kolivan was already tying the soft fabric around his eyes, hands twisting a complicated knot behind Keith’s head as he spoke in his usual pacifying tone.

“Not all lessons are to be learned with a sword in hand.” Kolivan informs him, hands withdrawing from Keith’s head and leaving the former Paladin temporarily dazed from his sudden loss of sight.

Almost instinctively, Keith sticks his arms out in front of him, hands grasping at empty air as the darkness surrounding his vision threw him temporarily off balance.

It takes Keith a moment to settle his stance, thighs muscles tightening in preparation as he tried to focus on the sound of Kolivan’s light footsteps circling him.

Barely a breath leaves Keith’s body before he’s being thrown to the floor. Keith immediately scrambles back to his feet, arms raised defensively in front of him.

“You must focus on your surrounds, not simply what you hear.” Kolivan says, sounding like he was right beside Keith. Keith lashes out with a rounded kick. Kolivan grips his leg and Keith is immediately thrown back on the floor, black slamming down and nearly knocking the wind out of him.

The mask has completely stripped Keith of his sight, the fabric simulating a pitch dark room. Even Keith wiping away a bead of sweat from his forehead doesn’t make it budge at all.

With teeth gritting slightly in frustration, Keith attempts to focus on his surroundings once again. This time Kolivan is a little easier to hear, the soft echo of his footsteps charging at Keith from behind. Without thinking about it, Keith immediately dives out of the way, barely avoiding what would surely have been a painful tackle.

The ensuing fight is difficult, with Keith trying to focus on his surroundings well as take hints from the sound of Kolivans’s lowered breathing and quick steps. By the time the older Galra decides to call training done for the day, Keith is already lying spread out on the floor, exhausted.

It takes him a few minutes to tug the blindfold off, the fabric messing up his hair and fluffing it up in the back which Keith hastily smooths down.

“You performed well today.” Kolivan comments as Keith rises to his feet on shaky legs, blinking his eyes to get used to the sudden brightness.

“I guess so.” Keith mumbles as he begins tying the fabric around his wrist. Kolivan remains silent as Keith tries to regulate his breathing, wiping away sweat clinging to his forehead.

“We will be visiting the Altean Castle soon.” Kolivan suddenly says, just as Keith begins gathering his knife. At the older Galra’s words, Keith feels a tightness he’d been trying to ignore suddenly return.

“I notice you have not been yourself.” Kolivan adds as he begins walking forward and away from Keith, in the direction of the door. Just before leaving Kolivan stops for a moment, back to Keith as he continues speaking “I hope that seeing your teammates may offer some relief for what plagues you.”

Without another word, Kolivan exits the training deck, leaving a silent Keith behind. Keith can feel his heartbeat, the loud ‘ _thump_ ’ pounding in his ears as he slowly begins to make his way out of the deck and back to his room.

_He’d thought he’d been hiding it well._

The door to his room slides open, upon sensing his presence and Keith instantly darts in.

_But Kolivan had noticed something was off with him._

Keith throws himself down on his bed, ignoring the protesting ache of his body as he does so.

The purple lights running along his wall fill the room with a soft glow, their dim setting casting slight shadows in the corner. Keith breathes slowly through his nose and lays an arm across his forehead, lips turning down into a slight frown.

As much as he tried to ignore it, his heart had jumped in excitement when Kolivan had said they’d be returning to the Castle of Lions- clearly it’d be for a joint mission between the two groups but Keith couldn’t deny the slight warmth that coursed through his veins as he thought about seeing his team, about seeing _Lance_.

And Lance...what would he do when he saw Lance again?

Keith felt his heart speed up, a swirl of unease building in his stomach.

He’d already told himself that he couldn’t let Lance know the truth. Lance would hate him if he did. But did that mean that...things just went back to the way they were before?

Him and Lance acknowledging each other with that too-formal greeting that left a bad taste in Keith’s mouth? Those passive looks they shot one another from across the room because they weren’t close enough ' _friends_ ' to sit beside one another or stand by each other during Keith’s visits?

No.

Keith couldn’t...he couldn’t go back to doing those things...and pretending like everything was alright.

He’d tried. He’d tried _so hard_ and for _so long_. But he...he just couldn’t.

Pain began blooming in his chest.

It wasn’t fair.

_It wasn’t fair._

They’d had been so _close_ at one point. He and Lance had been building something together, they’d been working together, Lance had _trusted_ him.

But Keith ruined all of it. And now he was just digging himself into a deeper hole if he let Lance continue to think that he was just some _random_ masked Marmora member.

He should stop. He should just put a stop to all of it and not put his mask on in Lance’s presence through the duration of his stay.

Keith’s hands tightened into fists, his fingers tangling around strands of his hair as he screwed his eyes shut.

Yeah.

At this point that was the best he could do.

It was what was best for everyone.

But even as he repeated it to himself in his head, he still couldn’t get himself to believe it. Running a hand down his face and sighing deeply, the fabric of the blindfold suddenly caught on his nose. Keith pulled his hand away from his cheek, eyes locking onto the dark strip of fabric tied around his wrist. The longer he stared, the more his emotions tickled away at the back of his head.

He...never did get to kiss Lance.

Keith’s eyes snapped open at the thought.

No.

No.

He’d already decided-

...But.

Keith bit his lip, eyes sharpening as he took in the strip of cloth, rubbing the silky texture between his fingers almost absently.

Keith has already sunk to a new low. He’s reached rock bottom. And if he was already the lowest of the low then.... what would one kiss matter? (A lot, he thought to himself, it meant _a lot_ ).

_God._

Keith let his eyes slip closed, willing away the slight burn of unshed tears. He really was pathetic.

XxX

The days pass by like a dream, Keith barely able to maintain focus in practice as the anticipated boarding day to the Castle draws closer. He knows that Kolivan has been shooting him slight looks whenever he gets knocked down during a spar with another Blade, and a few others have even cast him slight chuffs of concern. But none of that matters because the day finally comes and Keith _isn’t ready_.

As he remains tensely seated, fingers tugging at the blindfold he still has wrapped around his wrist- the one he still wasn’t sure he was going to use- as he tries to run through a rough script in his head.

_‘Lance there’s something I have to tell you-’_

No, that wouldn’t work.

_‘Lance I need to tell you that it was me who-’_

No, that wasn’t quite right either.

_‘Lance, I hope you don’t hate me but I-’_

The sudden jolt of the ship has Keith nearly jumping out of his seat as he begins digging his nails into the armrest of his seat, anticipation flaring in his chest. The other Blades beside and around him are beginning to rise, forming a line and making room for Kolivan to lead them out. As the other Galra begins making his way down the aisle, he stops beside Keith's seat, gazing down at him with a brow raised in question. He was expecting Keith to leave the ship with him, by his side as he always did.

Keith takes a slow breath through his nose and looks up at Kolivan, meeting his gaze head on. “I think that I’ll be the last to leave the ship this time.” He offers quietly, hoping his expression can communicate what he doesn’t say. Kolivan was good at that- understanding unvoiced cues, and Keith hoped that this time would be no exception.

Kolivan’s yellow eyes bore down into Keith’s, gaze searching as he scanned the half-galra’s face for something. Whatever it was he must have found it because he gives Keith a sharp nod and a light pat on the head before starting forward and marching out of the ship without him, the other Blades following after him.

As Keith watches them each file out, one by one, he slowly rises from his seat, entering the aisle to lead him out of the ship. His steps are heavy as he slowly approaches the lowered door leading to the hanger.

Alright. He just has to go out there with his mask off. Lance would be watching, he’d see Keith was the last to leave and he’d have no reason to believe that another Blade with a similar stature to Keith was on board. (Keith doesn’t know how the fact that Keith was the smallest Blade of Marmora made it over Lance’s head but he thanked his lucky stars it did.)

Okay.

Just go out, mask down.

Keith takes another step forward.

Mask down.

Another step.

_Mask down._

Keith is approaching the entrance to the hanger, hands clenched at his side. Just as he’s about to step down the lowered incline of the ship- he stops.

His fingers reach up- and brush against his mask activating sensor.

Keith wanders out of the ship, Marmora mask on and immediately locks his eyes on Lance standing across the hanger...smiling at him...waving at him- completely unaware of who he’s smiling and waving at.

Keith doesn’t miss a beat before he’s returning the wave, arm moving in a slight robotic motion as Lance’s eyes glitter in happiness all the way across the hanger.

He’d always been weak for the blue eyed boy.

Keith remains in place as Lance carefully watches his former teammates and the other Blades file out of the room until they're the only one left. As soon as the final person is gone, Lance practically races across the hanger, ramming into Keith and wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. Keith instantly returns the motion, warmth flooding his cheeks as he does. Wrapping both arms around Lance’s waist and pulling him close, laying his head against Lance’s shoulders.

Lance never, _never_ hugged Keith like this.

Keith’s hands tightened slightly and Lance released a slight coo.

He was wrong for doing this, even if he _was_ desperate to feel like Lance loved him.

Lance went lax in his arms, humming softly as he began tugging Keith out of the room.

He needed...needed to tell Lance the truth.

Lance tugged him into alcoves, avoiding others in the halls and Keith could feel his resolve crumbling everytime Lance tucked in close to him while they waited for another group of Blades to pass their hiding spot. As Lance led them into his room, his eyes caught on the blindfold wrapped around his wrist, it’s fabric glinting in the blue light of the other paladin's room.

Maybe it _was_ wrong.

Lance turned around in his arms, mouth tugged into a soft smile.

Maybe Keith _was_ pathetic and desperate.

Lance began murmuring against his neck, saying how he’d _missed_ him, how he’d _thought_ of him, saying things that Keith had _never_ heard Lance whisper to him.

But Keith didn’t care anymore.

As Lance leant forward, lips puckered for a kiss, Keith raised his hand, stopping him. Lance’s eyes flashed in hurt and Keith nearly opened his mouth to apologize before forcing his mouth click shut. Almost immediately, he began untying the blindfold he’d been carrying with him, the one he’d brought with him in a moment of weakness. As he offered it to Lance, he felt his heart skip a beat in his chest.

_Maybe?_

Lance’s eyes were filled with confusion as he accepted it, looking back up at Keith with a soft gaze that didn't quite comprehend what he was trying to say.  Keith slowly reached out, gingerly taking the blindfold from Lance and raising it to cover one of Lance’s eyes, hoping he’d understand.

_Maybe?_

It takes a moment, but Keith sees the moment realization enters Lance’s eyes. Keith bites his lips, hand trembling slightly against Lance’s cheek as the other boy slowly wrapped their fingers around Keith’s wrist, using his other hand to tug the fabric out of his grip. Keith’s breath stutters as Lance slowly approaches him, eyes staring into his with an unknown emotion.

Keith feels his lungs spasm when Lance offers the fabric back to him. Hurt begins to drum in his ears.

Lance didn’t want...well of _course_ he didn’t wan-

“Put it on me.”

Keith freezes at Lance’s hoarse words, lifting his head that he hadn’t noticed was hanging down. The other boy is staring at him, eyes intense as he lets his chest press against Keith’s.

“Put it on me.” Lance repeats, eyes gazing down into Keith’s with pure adoration. “ _Please_.”

Keith scrambles to follow the request, fingers trembling as Lance turns around. Keith tries to tie a secure knot, make sure it’s not too tight and ends up hurting Lance’s eyes, but his fingers are shaking so bad he has to redo it a few times before he’d satisfied. As soon as his hands pull away, Lance is spinning around on one foot, excited grin tugging at his cheeks.

“Don’t be nervous.” Lance soothes as he blindly reaches out for Keith, fingers wiggling in excitement when they reach him. “You never have to be nervous with me.” He adds, smile softening as he places a soft kiss on Keith’s chin, he'd likely been aiming for his still-covered mouth but missed completely. Keith instantly nods, not a smidge of doubt entering his mind at Lance’s words.

Lance pulls away out of his arms, turning to stretch his hands out in front of him and beginning to feel around for his bed. Keith watches for a moment, smile tugging at his lips when Lance let out a slight whoop of success at finding it before throwing himself down on top of the mattress.

“C’mon.” Lance says insistently as he begins reaching for Keith’s general direction. “I can’t see anything and I wanna hug.”

Keith immediately starts forward, almost as if he was hypnotized. Once he reaches the edge of Lance’s bed, he slowly begins crawling between the other boy’s legs, being careful not to jostle the bed too much as he does.

Lance is grinning up at him, soft mouth tugged up by tan cheeks. His nose twitches slightly as he takes a deep breath, lifting his hands to latch onto his shoulders and bring Keith down to him. Keith allows him to, chest pressing against one another's and face hovering over Lance’s.

Keith stares down at Lance’s unseeing eyes. As he pushes himself up, Lance’s thighs instantly wrapping around his waist. He lifts a free hand, waving it in front of Lance’s face.

No reaction.

Keith breathes a sigh of relief.

It takes longer than Keith would like to admit to lower his mask, his heart pounding in his chest and in his throat as he slowly raised his fingers to brush the sensor on his neck.

His mask was the last barrier he had, the only that let him hold Lance like he was currently doing. Once it was gone…

Taking a shaky breath, Keith screws his eyes shut and lets his mask drop.

It’s silent in the room for a full second before Keith feels a pressure begin to push against his dick. Eyes slowly open creaking open, he takes in the sight laid out in front of him.

Lance’s mouth is slightly agape as he softly gyrates his hips against Keith, using his legs wrapped around the half-galra to bring Keith down against him and increase the friction between them. Keith has to bite back a whimper when Lance somehow manages to settle his dick into the cleft of his clothed ass.

It’s been...awhile for him.

Lance releases a breathy laugh, likely having heard Keith’s whine. Keith breathes steadily through his nose, eyes drawn to the slight curve of Lance’s lips. They’re shiny, probably from that lip oil he’s become so fond of after having found it at one of the swap moons the team had visited before Keith had left.

As Keith slowly lowers his head, he catches the scent of a something floral he can’t quite place. It’s then that he notes Lance’s slightly damp hair, he must’ve been in the bathes before Keith and the other Blades arrived.

The memory of the bathes causes him to jerk forward slightly, drawing a light gasp out of Lance as he does. Keith leans in closer, his breath brushing against Lance’s cheek as he locks his eyes on his lips. He’s hesitating, because _what if_ , what if Lance could _tell_ it was him?

Hovering slightly as Lance pushed back against him. Just as he’s about to pull back, Lance reaches up for him, fingers blindly trying to latch onto him.

“Kiss me.” Lance murmurs as he finally grips Keith’s shoulder, fingers almost brushing his bare neck. “Please.” He begs, forehead creasing slightly.

Keith could never deny Lance.

Tilting his head down, Keith’s lips brush against Lance’s, the slight stickiness of the oil immediately coating Keith’s lips. Slowly, Keith adds pressure, tilting his head to the side as he slowly moves his lips against Lance’s eager ones. Keith lifts one of his hands, gently cradling Lance’s chin as he hesitantly runs his tongue against Lance’s upper lip. Instantly, Lance grants him access, mouth falling open and letting Keith deepen the kiss. Lance’s mouth is warm, tongue rubbing against Keith’s in a slight dragging motion as he begins lifting his head, chasing Keith’s lips. Keith’s eyes slip closed, bliss filling his as his tongue traces along Lance’s lips, licking into Lance’s warm mouth.

He’d only ever _dreamed_ of this happening.

Almost without thinking about it, Keith begins grinding his hips against Lance, thrusts short and shallow as both their clothed erections drag against each other. Lance releases light gasps into Keith’s mouth whenever he turns his hips in a certain way, adding a bit more force as he presses down into Lance. Lance has a hand at his lower back, nails digging slightly into his suit every time he presses down.

Suddenly, Lance pulls away, a slight trail of saliva connecting their mouths. Keith might be grossed out if it wasn’t so hot.

Making a slight murmuring sound, Lance begins shimmying his hips, wiggling around like a snake as he tries pull out from under Keith a bit. Keith pushes himself up, understanding what the other boy was trying to do and resolving to help.

Keith helps Lance unbuckle his jeans and tug them off as Lance shakes out of them, leaning back on his elbows and frowning slightly in effort. Once they’re off and Keith has let Lance’s pants slink to the floor, he turns back around, noting that Lance has adjusted to lie back on his bed, reclined on a few pillows.

“That was way less sexy than I thought it would be.” Lance breathlessly informs him as Keith crawls back between his legs. Keith feels a loving smile bloom and bends over to kiss Lance’s lips. Lance smiles against his mouth and begins shimmying again, this time bending his knee close to his chest and tugging his blue briefs down to his shins. Keith snakes his fingers under Lance’s shirt and strokes the other boy’s warm side as he presses closer, clothed erection making his suit feel uncomfortably warm. Slowly, Keith lets his fingers trail down to Lance’s inner thighs, lightly brushing his fingers and grinning at the shiver that travels through Lance’s body.

Lance’s dick is curving slightly in the direction of his stomach, it’s head flushed red and looking all too painful. Taking a moment to breath, Keith’s hand reaches forward, enjoying Lance’s gasp of surprise when he loosely grips it.

Lance’s hands are gripping his blanket in a tight fist, jaw clenched as Keith slowly tightens his grasp, thumb pressing down slightly on his slit. Lance’s dick is heavy and wet, it’s size not as thick as Keith’s but definitely a little longer. Adjusting his position, Keith lowers himself down the length of Lance's body, letting one hand rest on Lance’s naked thigh, and the other to hold him steady as he takes Lance’s head into his mouth.

Lance gasps in surprise, arching up and into Keith’s mouth. The hand Keith has on Lance’s thigh stops him from nearly hitting the back of Keith's throat and triggering his gag reflex. Slowly, Keith pulls back, popping off and carefully watching Lance’s face for a reaction when he softly tongues his dripping slit. An almost cringe worthy taste of musk coats his tongue but Keith ignores it when Lance releases a shaky moan and begins biting his lip, forehead creasing in pleasure. Keith smiles and leans forward again, opening his mouth and letting Lance rest heavily on his tongue, swirling it slightly and trying to get Lance to make those soft, gasping noises again.

Lance does, letting out a soft cry and thrusting his hips up, trying to get more relief from Keith’s mouth. Keith takes him a bit deeper, the stretch making his jaw ache a bit.

Lance is shivering under him, dick twitching in his mouth and leaking enough precum to begin coating Keith’s lips. Even though Keith didn't have an exact technique, what he was doing was getting good reactions so he decided to keep going. Bobbing his head down and taking Lance down little by little, stopping when he began gagging the slightest bit. Lance was whimpering as Keith held him in his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he sucked a bit. The former Red Paladin had been so focused on Lance, he hadn’t relieved himself at all. His dick was straining against his suit, his only relief being from the unconscious thrusting into Lance’s mattress he’d been doing.

Lance is wordlessly babbling, moaning as Keith lowers his fingers from holding down Lance’s thigh, down to his hole that Keith has left untouched the entire time.

As Keith’s gloved fingers begin circling Lance’s rim he absently notes how...slick the area is. At first he dismisses it, but suddenly realizes something is up when the first finger he puts into Lance sinks down to the knuckle easily.

Lance groans softly when Keith curls it, dragging it out slowly before thrusting back in less than a second later. Making a slightly questioning noise, Keith pulls his mouth off Lance’s dick and shoots a confused look at the other boy- forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t actually _see_ Keith.

“I-I-” Lance begins, biting his lip when Keith is able to thrust a second finger in. “I s-stretched myself,” Lance whispers, not seeing Keith freeze. “Before you came..I...In the bath.” Lance whispers, voice sounding a mix between desperate and raspy.

Keith’s fingers remain inside Lance, the former paladin still trying to regain his wits because Lance...Lance had fingered himself...and he’d been thinking of _Keith_ . Taking a steadying breath because his chest suddenly feels like it's about to _explode_ , Keith rose to his knees, slowly spreading his fingers apart in Lance, wanting to see how stretched the other boy was because like _fuck_ was Keith going to risk accidentally hurting him. Lance’s inside easily give, his wet hole practically sucking Keith’s fingers in when Lance lets out a whine and tightens around them. Keith softly caresses Lance’s thigh with his other hand and gradually continues stretching Lance with a third finger, curling them slightly to stroke his insides. At that, Lance gasps and arches into Keith’s fingers, pulling his hips back and thrusting down, trying to fuck himself on Keith’s hand. Keith watches, eyes beginning to cloud with desire as the pain in his groin became too powerful to ignore.

Carefully, Keith removes his hand from Lance’s thigh and begins opening the slit at the front of his suit, gently pulling out his dripping dick, wincing as the weeping head lets a pearl of cum escape.

 _Shit_.

Biting back his groan, Keith crawls forward, letting his dick rest on Lance’s thigh as he begins pumping Lance’s neglected length.

Lance suddenly chokes, thrusting his hips up and groping his hands around for Keith’s dick that he can probably feel resting heavily on him. Keith releases a sigh of relief when Lance’s fingers wrap around his length, fondling it slightly as Lance pushed himself up on his pile of pillows, creating a sort of back rest for him as he sat up.

Gently, Lance brought Keith’s aching dick down to his hole, brushing it against the rim and testing Keith’s patience when he let the head slide inside him for a few moments, enough for his hole to stretch around him and feel the  _edge_   of inviting wet heat.

Suddenly, one of Lance’s hands is pulling away, instead beginning to dig under one of his pillows, hands searching for something. Finally, he pulls out a familiar bottle, the lube they’d used the second time they’d been together- when they’d been in Keith’s room.

“Here.” Lance breathes, holding it out for him. Keith immediately accepts it, already popping the cap open while Lance shoves one of his many pillows under his hips. Keith lets a generous amount of the pink gel-like substance gather in his palm before setting it to the side. Tucking in close, Keith carefully hoists one of Lance’s legs on his shoulder, letting the other one curl around his waist as he began to stroke himself with the pink lube, Lance practically shaking in anticipation. As Keith knelt in closer, length unintentionally hitting Lance's thigh, he watched the other boy reach his hands down on either side of him, fingers gripping each of his cheeks and spreading his hole as Keith adjusted to let the tip rest against Lance’s rim.

Kissing his inner thigh in thanks, Keith put a hand on Lance's lower gut, holding him in place as he began to sink in. As he steadily continued, Lance's hot insides filling him with delirious pleasure, Lance began arching into him, soft sighs leaving him. Keith's hips were pressed flush against Lance's ass when he finally bottomed out, releasing a breath hadn’t realized he’d been holding

“ _God_ .” Lance groaned, tilting his head back against his pillows. “Your dick is like _magic_.”

Keith smiled and slowly pulled his hips back, gently thrusting back into Lance as he gripped the leg thrown over his shoulder. Keith manages to create a rhythm, following the sound of Lance’s moans as guidance and he burying his own own groans into the soft skin of Lance’s thigh. Lance’s other leg is keeping him locked in place, his hole clenching tightly around him every time he tries to pull out.

Breathing becoming slightly ragged, Keith bit down on his lip- hips beginning to stutter as Lance purposefully tightened around him, trying to squeeze his orgasm out of him one thrust at a time. Cursing under his breath, Keith could feels his own end approaching and began pushing down into Lance, forcing the blue eyed boy’s knee against his chest and practically bending him in half as he began thrusting desperately into him, determined to get Lance to climax together with him.

Lance’s mouth fell open into a silent scream, brows furrowing in pleasure as Keith continued pressing into him, hard enough to begin shaking Lance’s cot like a mini earthquake was taking place.

“ _F-f-fuck_ !” Lance cursed, gritting his teeth together as Keith leant forward to kiss him. Lance blindly gripped Keith’s hair in one hand, holding his head in place as he panted into Keith’s mouth, warm breath murmuring praises against Keith’s lips, begging him to go _harder_ , that he was almost _there_ , _he was right there._

Keith felt his own release creeping closer, the tell tale tightening of his gut causing white to begin flashing behind his eyelids. Leaning down, Keith began mouthing against Lance’s soft cheeks, peppering kisses as his other hand reached behind Lance’s head to grip his hair and pull him toward Keith’s mouth.

Keith slipped his tongue between Lance's velvety lips, tracing the roof of his mouth and curling his tongue around Lance's as he felt his back begin to stiffen. The heat of Lance’s slick insides tempting him to thrust _deep_ into Lance as he came. Grunting as cum filled him, Lance arched into him with a cry, his hands helping to stroke himself into completion with quick movements and painting both their chests white.

Keith buried his face into Lance’s neck, the smell of sweat filling his nostrils as he gently bit the blue eyed boy’s collarbone. Gently, he began untangling his fingers from Lance’s hair, pulling them away and bringing them down to begin to stroke Lance’s trembling sides.

For a minute the only sound in the room was of the two of them trying to catch their breath. Keith nuzzled Lance’s neck again, lips softly kissing the wet skin, but was startled when Lance suddenly tensed in his arms. Thinking something was wrong, he looked up.

Blue.

Blue eyes were staring at him with disbelieving shock.

Keith instantly shot up, something like fear and confusion swirling in his chest. As he gazed down to meet Lance’s eyes he noticed something dark clenched in his hands.

The blindfold. The blindfold that Keith had wrapped around Lance’s eyes was in his hands.

But how? He hadn’t taken it off, how did it-

Keith was suddenly struck with the memory of gripping Lance’s hair as he kissed him. He was struck with the memory of gently untangling his fingers from Lance’s hair while he nuzzled his neck- while he wasn’t _looking at what he was doing._

He’d taken off the blindfold.

Keith had taken off the blindfold by mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooooooooo  
> XxX  
> come beat me up on [my shitty blog!!!](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo this was supposed to go up sunday but we all know what was happening THAT day. (my roomates were hosting a party in our dorm rather than going to the viewing rooms my university set up for students to watch the superbowl so with all the noise i couldn't focus enough to finish writing the chapter)
> 
> id apologize for this being two days late but im pretty some yall already want me dead so i got nothin to lose lmao

Alright so Lance didn’t exactly have what some people would consider a “ _successful_ ” love life. But has he done a little cave diving? Has he jammed his clam? Gotten filled like a Boston cream doughnut?

Absolutely. And he loved every _minute_ of it.

But the thing was that all of Lance’s lovely past partners didn’t seem to...stick around for long. And sure the first time he woke up to an empty bed hurt like hell and the first time his texts stopped getting returned felt like a punch to the gut- but he _adapted._  Lance knew that people wanted him and if they didn’t think that he was worth enough to stick around well then who cared? Because one day Lance was gunna strike _gold_.

XxX

It wasn’t like Lance was never _curious_ about his Blade because _of course_ he was. His Blade was always in full uniform, never took off his mask, never said much of anything (excluding the occasional moans).

The only thing that Lance really knew about him was his dick (and what a beautiful dick it was). But even that wasn’t enough to keep his curiosity at bay because Lance...kinda wanted them to be a little closer.

Because-was it really too much to ask for the Blade to like...hold Lance’s hand while he fucked him? Let Lance kiss him? Like _for real_ kiss him?

Lance didn’t think they were requests that would be too difficult to fulfill- but the vague hesitance he still felt served as a stopper every time he thought about it. The two of them had a _thing_ going, a thing that Lance _very much_ enjoyed, and if he was being honest- this thing they had going on was the best thing that’s happened to Lance in a loooong while.

So Lance shoved any desire to kiss his Blade to the back of his mind the second it reared its head .

But then his Blade offered him a blindfold.

And sure maybe it was just a kink or maybe it was some role play thing (Lance thinks he does a pretty good impression of a hot bank teller held at gunpoint during a robbery who is trying to finesse his way out of the situation using nothing but his god given assets)- but Lance was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So he sure as shit accepted it, fingers gently wrapping around the soft fabric as he felt the edge of joy begin to bubble up inside him. The Marmoran was silent as Lance offered it back to him, their shoulders tensed in anticipation as Lance lay the blindfold into their hands.

“Put it on me.” He asked, voice low, as he took a step closer to the Galra, pressing his chest against the other’s armour, body lax like they belonged together. His Blade remains unmoving and Lance doesn’t need to see their face to know they’re stunned at his agreement. “Put it on me.” He repeats, leaning closer and letting his breath ghost against his Blade’s mask, the purple lights casting a soft glow between their faces. “ _Please_ .” He adds, not quite begging but also not, _not_ begging as he slowly turns around, back to the Blade.

And so what if Lance is more inclined to voice desperation? Sue him.

Lance watches the wall in front of him with a barely concealed smile, his Blade immediately beginning to follow his request based on the sound of rustling behind him.

The Blade’s hands shake slightly as they smooth out the fabric, gently lifting the blindfold to cover Lance’s eyes.

The darkness is immediate and almost jarring, Lance almost can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed. He can feel the slight movements of a knot being tied behind his head, his Blade struggling to get a proper bow in place as the shakiness of their hands betrayed an unvoiced nervousness that Lance felt his brow furrow in concern for. His head is tugged back every so often with the force of his Blade’s tying but Lance can’t really bring himself to mind, instead letting his head be gently rocked by the motions of the Galra’s hands. The suits worn by the Blade of Marmora were clearly of a different cut, their fabric almost scratchy against the back of Lance’s neck as his Blade’s arm moved back and forth to adjust the fabric covering Lance’s eyes. Another brush has a slight shiver traveling down Lance’s spine, the unexpected movement somehow increasing in sensitivity with Lance’s loss of sight.

 _Oh man_ , if this was how it was gunna be the entire time then Lance _definitely_ made the right choice.

With a giddy grin creeping onto his lips, Lance felt the Marmoran’s hands pull away and immediately spins around on his heel. The motion almost throws him into a bout of dizziness but Lance feels it disappear as soon as he manages to center himself. Taking a moment to breathe, he stretches out his arms, knowing his Blade is nearby and itching to hold onto him. His fingers find what Lance believes is their shoulders and before long is already curling into them, nails tapping in excitement against the shoulder plates they’re gripping.

His Blade is tense. Their shoulders tight under Lance’s hands and without really thinking, Lance opens his mouth to speak.

“Don’t be nervous.” He coos, sighing happily under his breath as he feels hands hesitantly settle on his hips. “You never have to be nervous with me.” He assures, tilting his head forward to lay a soft kiss on his beloved. His lips meet mask but he’s not sure _where_ exactly they’ve landed, but that doesn’t seem to matter because Lance feels his Blade nod at Lance’s words.

Pulling himself out of the Galra’s arms, Lance immediately begins blindly searching for his bed and secretly hoping he doesn’t look like an idiot. Once his hand meets the familiar sponginess of his mattress he lets out a slight whoop and immediately flops down, head landing on one of his many pillows.

His grin almost hurts with how wide it’s stretched and he’s almost trembling in excitement as he enthusiastically waves his Blade over, but Lance doesn't think much on it because he knows he’s in for a great night- but more than that, he can _finally_ get that kiss he’s been wanting.

XxX

The blindfold  makes things a little harder for Lance, but not really by much. Usually Lance is the one who tends to take the lead, guiding hands and pressing fingers- but he can’t exactly do that when he can’t see _what_ he’s doing (or _who_ he’s doing).

But Lance is nothing if not flexible so he _adjusts_ \- listening closely as his Blade crawls into bed with him, kneeling between his legs and hovering over him. Smirking in anticipation, he immediately pulls his Blade down to him, smile softening into something more affectionate as he feels their comfortable weight lean into him, arms on either side of his head. Sighing softly through his nose, he wraps his legs around his Blade’s waist and interlaces his fingers behind their neck, settling into a more comfortable position with the pillows at his back.

Feelings of happiness bubble into him as he is wrapped around his lover like a horny koala. He can feel the movement of his Blade’s hands but he’s not able to see what he’s doing, and so, without much fanfare, Lance slowly begins raising his hips to meet the other’s. Almost immediately, he feels the edge of a stiff length pressing against a bodysuit.

Oh, _hell yeah_.

Lance’s mouth falls open slightly, a silent gasp escaping him as he _grinds_ up against the Galra’s crotch, somehow missing and letting his Blade’s dick slide against his left cheek. Adjusting slightly, Lance begins shallow, quick thrusts of his hips, trying to find the angle that’s _just right_ -

The hardening length ends up in the cleft of his ass.

A muted whine from above fills the otherwise silence of the room and Lance can’t help but feel a brief rush of accomplishment run through him. A light chuckles manages to make its way out of him, before he refocuses and begins to soften his pressure, letting his hips _drag_ against the aching dick before going back and doing it _again_.

Already, Lance can feel his own arousal begin to tighten and press against his jeans, pulse racing in excitement as soft pants leave his open mouth- a sudden thrust from his Blade has him making a gasp of surprise.

 _God_ , he curses silently, he can _feel_ his Blade’s excitement pressing clearly against him, can feel their arms keeping his head encased as his hips take on an almost unconscious rhythm, can feel hot breath brushing against his cheeks and _God_ he wants it, _wants it so bad._

“Kiss me.” He breathes out before he can stop himself, a slight ache tickling at him as he’s reaching up to latch onto his Blade’s shoulders. “Please.” He whispers, feeling clear desperation as the ache in his stomach grows bigger- it doesn’t have to be a big kiss, it doesn’t even have to be a _good_ kiss- but Lance, Lance just needs to _feel_ them, needs _them_.

The edge of a second passes, and Lance feels something brush against his lips. Slowly, almost gently, he can feel his Blade’s lips begin to press closer against his. Eagerly, Lance begins moving his mouth languidly against the other’s, feeling his eyelashes flutter shut as he focused on the warm pair of lips kissing him more softly than anyone _ever_ has. A gentle hand settles on Lance’s chin, tilting his head up as a hesitant tongue ran along his upper lip.

Lance felt a shiver race down the back of his head and to the tip of his toes.

Lance lets his mouth fall open, joy pounding in his chest as a warm tongue slips into his mouth, brushing against his own and licking into him with a gentleness that Lance has never received. Lance can feel his mouth chasing after his Blade’s after each slight movement that could possibly be them pulling away.

 _‘Wow’_ Is all Lance can think as his Blade lets his tongue lick every part of his mouth, mouth still slightly agape.

Suddenly, his Blade thrusts their hips forward, clothed erection pressing against Lance’s own length as he began taking short, sharp snaps of his hips, all without pulling his mouth off of Lance’s. Lance release light gasps into the other’s mouth when he rubs him _just_ right- raising his hand to grip onto his Blade and press him _closer_ , get him to thrust _deeper_ . The longer the short movements drag the closer Lance can feel himself getting to losing his mind because, fuck- _it’s not enough._

With heavy reluctance, Lance pulls away from his Blade, saliva and spit coating his lips as he begins wiggling his hips, blindly searching for his zipper. His beloved helps him with his button and makes room for him as Lance begins kicking his pants off.

With some difficulty, Lance manages to peel his jeans off and lets them land in a heap on the floor. Taking a deep sigh, he reclines on his pillows once again, moving a few of them to act as some slight support.

“That was way less sexy than I thought it would be.” Lance breathes and tries not to imagine the disaster that would’ve occurred if he’d decided to do a blindfolded strip tease before getting into bed.

Promptly, he feels his lover reclaim his earlier position between Lance’s legs, and raises his knees to his chest in order to pull off his underwear- he really should’ve just gone commando but he’d just take the current situation as a learning experience. Lowering them down to his shins, Lance settles his legs back down- almost startling when he feels the gloved fingers of his Blade begin to stroke his sides.

The movement feels soft and so inexplicably...intimate that Lance takes a moment to enjoy it, the fingers dancing across his warm skin as lies back against a throne of pillows.

Without warning, his Blade wraps their fingers around Lance’s cock. A choking sound of surprise leaves him, muscles in his pelvis tensing as his dick is loosely gripped. Lance clenches his fingers around the blanket under him, keeping them encased in tight fists as a thumb pressed against his leaking slit.

The hand stroking his side pulls away and settles on his inner thigh and Lance takes a tense breath in anticipation, waiting, wanting to see what his Blade was going to do next. Between the end of his last thought and the beginning of his next- a warm mouth wraps around the head of Lance’s cock.

Lance thrusts reflectively, mouth falling open into a gasp. The hand of his thigh stops his sudden movement and Lance legitimately almost cries when the mouth wrapped around him pulls away not less than a second later. The tip of a tongue begins dragging against his slit and Lance chokes back his moan, biting his lip, and feeling his brows crease in pleasure.

_Fuck!_

Slowly, Lance is taken deeper, a tongue messily licking around his shaft as his Blade began bobbing his head and sucking him. Lance could nothing but whimper, hands clenched in a white knuckle grip as sparkes of pleasure traveled through him.

As Lance began babbling nonsense, mouth falling open to release garbled curses and phrases of _‘yes’, ‘more’,_ and _‘please’_ \- he felt a finger begin to circle his hole, the slickness of the oil he’d used in the bath still nicely coating him enough so the light tugging on his rim is not uncomfortable. Lance breathes sharply through his nose when his Blade sinks his finger down to the knuckle barely a second later.

A confused noise comes from above him and Lance feels his mouth moving to answer the unvoiced question.

“I-I-” He began, slightly out of breath as his Blade let a second finger sink in alongside the first. “I s-stretched myself,” He whimpers, the fingers inside him lightly soothing the ache of want that’d been growing stronger since he first put the blindfold on. “Before you came...I....in the bath.” He whispers hoarsely, silently wishing his Blade would move his fingers- thrust them in and out, curl them against his walls, _anything_.

It takes a few seconds, but his beloved Blade finally begins moving his fingers again, spreading them inside Lance and scissoring him as if testing to see how loose he was.

Pretty goddamn loose was the answer- Lance _always_ made sure he did a thorough job whenever he fingered himself. The hand on his thigh began softly caressing him as a third finger slowly worked their way in- the increasing stretch had Lance clenching down on them, insides burning for the familiar stretch of his Blade’s length (one that Lance recalled very fondly). Almost without realizing it, Lance felt his hips began to follow the thrusts of his Blade’s fingers- practically fucking himself on the other’s hand for a strait few seconds before they were slowly tugged out of him.

Taking steadying breaths, Lance tried to control his racing pulse as he felt a soft weight settle against his thigh. It was wet and thick and Lance didn’t even need to wonder for longer to know that it was the cock that’d been giving him sweet dreams for the last few weeks. His Blade once again wraps their fingers around his length and begins pumping, a steady stream of precum flowing out of him at the action. Lance chokes on the air in his lungs and squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching as he began feeling for the dick against his thigh.

He takes the dripping length into his hand and guides it to his hole, pleasure clenching deep in his belly as his Blade continued slowly jacking him off. He hears the hitch in breath, when he lets the Galra’s dick press against his wet opening, pushing it in _just enough_ for there to be a stretch. He can feel his lovers dick dripping in precum as he let it circle his rim, teasing it by letting the head push into him before pulling it back out- bath oil or no bath oil they’d _definitely_ need more lube if his Blade wanted to sink deeper into him.

Keeping one hand on the dick, Lance shoved his free arm under his pillows, grasping around for the familiar bottle he knows should still be there from the night before when he’d last used it. His fingers brush against the ribbed bottle and Lance is immediately tugging it out from under the mound, offering it to his Blade as he began grasping for a pillow fluffy enough to shove under his hips. Releasing the weeping length in his hand, Lance slowly raised his hips, enough so that he could slide a pillow covered with a soft material under him.

Lance leant back, letting his head rest on one of his many pillows as he heard the slight _‘squelch’_ of his lube in front of him. When his beloved creeps closer, length poking his thigh and hand raising his leg onto his shoulder, Lance can practically _feel_ his insides vibrating in anticipation. He reaches his hands down on either side of himself, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his cheeks as he spread himself open to the only one he’d do it for, to the only one he’d ever let blindfold him, to the only one he’d ever thought about- day and night, to the only one he’d ever wanted to kiss with such fierce desperation it almost _hurt_.

A soft kiss is pressed to his inner thigh and Lance feels his breathing stop as his Blade finally, _finally_ enters him, length stretching his walls as he let himself sink into Lance fully, hips pressing flush against Lance’s ass when he finally ran out of cock.

Lance released his breath, the heavy weight in him almost bringing a smile to his face.

“ _God_ .” He moaned, letting his head flop back. “Your dick is like _magic_.”

The huffing sound he heard it immediately afterwards might’ve been a laugh but it’s tossed out as soon as his beloved begins thrusting, moves alternating between slow and deep and quick, shallow thrusts. Lance’s own moans and throaty grunts were serving as encouragement every time his Blade managed to hit his prostate. His hole clenched occasionally as his Blade made to pull out because _fuck_ , what Lance would give to stay with his lover the _rest of his life._

As thrusts began increasing in speed, Lance felt his own climax steadily approaching, the clench of his gut and electricity coursing in his veins being the giveaway signs. Lance felt his jaw clench at the friction of his beloved’s length as it sank into him once again, as he made to pull back- Lance clenched down, feeling his cheeks squeeze around the cock in a death-grip before lightening as his beloved thrust in once again.

He beloved’s hips were stuttering, Lance could feel the tightening of his pelvic muscles against his ass and reached a hand down to stroke himself. Just as he clenched a fist around himself, his Blade had a sudden burst of speed, hips pistoning into him as he began pressing his full weight against Lance, practically bending him _in half_ and fucking down into him with enough force to begin shaking his bed.

“ _F-f-fuck_ !” Lance cursed, breath going ragged as his Blade began fucking into him for all he was worth. Warm lips began kissing at his mouth, licking him as he panted with effort. A sudden wave of pleasure had him arching into the thrusts and his beloved was there, _he was right there_ \- pounding into Lance’s prostate like there was no tomorrow.

And Lance- Lance _cried_ , full on fucking cried with tears of intense pleasure filling his eyes as he began babbling incomprehensible words, begging his Blade- faster, _harder_ , **_deeper-_ ** that he was right there, _right fucking there._

His Blade was mouthing against his cheeks, wet lips forming half kisses as Lance blindly began grasping for him, hand finally locking into his hair and pulling him toward Lance’s mouth. His beloved's tongue easily slipped in, fingers tangling in his hair as Lance whimpered into his mouth. With only another push, his body went tense, sparks like nothing he’d ever felt coursing through him as he pumped himself to completion, weeping into his beloved’s mouth as overwhelming pleasure fried every nerve in his body.

It took a moment for Lance to regain composure, heart jack hammering away in his chest as he tried to calm his breathing. His beloved was nuzzling his neck, their owns hips pressed flush against his as their wet mouth pressing soft kisses against his collarbone. Lance shifted his position slightly and released a soft breath as he felt the flood of warm wetness inside him, his Blade’s softening cock still sheathed in him.

A sudden tugging from the back of his head had Lance opening his eyes, not noticing he had let them close. His Blade was gently tugging his blindfold off as he untangled his fingers from Lance’s hair- pulling them away as soon as he’d gotten free.

As the dark fabric slipped away, Lance felt his eyes squint, the brightness of the room giving a sharp contrast to his previously dark surroundings. Blinking a few times, he focused his gaze on the ceiling of his room. A minute passed silently. With Lance trying to get his eyes to adjust to the light, but a sudden movement grabbed his attention- his Blade was nuzzling his neck again, tiredly laying kisses against his sweaty skin.

As if suffering from a delayed reaction, a sudden wave of anxiety rammed into him.

He didn’t have the blindfold.

His beloved had taken it off him.

But...what did that mean?

Lance hesitantly glanced down, spotting a thick mane of dark hair, just out of the corner of his eyes- hair that was connected to a face, one that he’d been aching to see.

And now he _could_.

Lance’s palms suddenly became sweaty, stomach rumbling with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. It took a moment for Lance to gather himself, the butterflies swarming in his stomach really making their presence clear as he chanced a look down the length of his body.

Sprawled on top of him was his Blade, their armour all still covering their body-but the thing that most caught Lance’s attention was- the hair.

Now that he had a better view he could see it-

Dark hair.

Dark messily cut hair.

Hair that looked like someone had taken a shard of glass and gone to town on their locks.

Lance knew that hair.

Lance’s shoulders tensed, something cold and disbelieving gripping his gut as he stared wide-eyed down at the body laying on top of him.

No.

No.

There was _no way._

Lance felt his body increase in tension, pulling taut like a violin string. His sudden shift must’ve been noted because suddenly that head was turning up to _look_ at him.

Grey.

Lance felt his eyes begin to widen even further, an indiscernible emotion coiling in his chest as he stared into the grey eyes of an equally shocked Keith Kogane.

XxX

Both Paladin and former- Paladin stared down at one another for what felt like hours. Eyes wide and uncomprehending of what was in front of them. It was only when Keith’s eyes flickered down to the blindfold clenched in his hand that Lance snapped out of the slight trance he had been in.

Suddenly Lance is pushing away, recoiling back from Keith and onto his mountain of pillows. At the quick movement he also accidentally tugs Keith’s dick out of him. Both of them wince at the sudden action, Lance at the ache of having aggravated his sore entrance and Keith at having his sensitive length roughly handled. The action does seem to force both of them out of whatever stupor they’d been falling into- with Lance scrambling for a pillow to cover himself with and Keith backing away far enough for their to be a large space left between them.

Again- a tense silence falls between them, both their minds racing, confusion and hurt swirling within them. But as the seconds drag on and neither of them speak, Lance takes it upon himself , adjusting the pillow he’s pressing against his crotch, to do so first.

“What the hell.” He breathes, voice low and tinged with incredulity. Keith flinches, curling up at the foot of Lance’s bed, brows furrowed in concern as he stared at Lance like he was stuck between deciding to run or stay.

“What. The. _Hell_.” Lance repeats, the slight tremble of his voice unsteadiying him. His body was trembling, shivering like it was cold even though Lance knew the conditions of his room was controlled by the castle's regulated heating. Some throat closing emotion was tightening around his chest, gripping his heart and slowly squeezing the life out of it.

Keith pushed himself up, hesitation clear in every line of his body as he made to crawl closer to Lance, his dick having been tucked back into his pants at one point while Lance zoned out. Indecision flickered in his eyes as he stared at Lance’s form.

“Lanc-” He began.

 _“What the_ **_hell_ ** _?!”_ Lance broke out, voice booming as his face twisted into confusion? Stress? Anger?

Lance didn’t know. All he knew was that _Keith-_ the same Keith that’d been ignoring him. The same Keith who’d been blowing him off for months. The same Keith who barely tolerated him was...was….what _was_ this?

Lance’s head flickered up, watching as Keith, whose face had twisted into the the very picture of distress, slowly crawled off the bed- sitting tensely with his back to Lance as he planted his feet firmly on the ground.

“L-Lance,” He began, shoulders shaking like he was struggling to speak. “Lance...I...I..I wasn’t...I didn’t…” He took a shaky breath, hands taking a white knuckle grip on Lance’s sheets, body trembling in every limb. “I-I should go.” He manages to choke out.

Before Lance can blink Keith is already halfway to the door, body practically brimming with intent.

“W-wait!” Lance yells out before he can stop himself. “Keith, _wait_!”

The door slides open at sensing his presence and Lance can’t explain the sudden desperation that erupts in his chest.

“Keith Kogane! If you walk out that door I will _never_ speak to you again!” Lance shrieks because Keith can’t _leave_ , Lance...Lance needs him to _stay_ . Because….because _everyone_ always leaves and goddamn it he will _not_ let Keith do that to him.

At his words, Keith freezes, one foot through the doorway. Slowly his head turns to look at Lance, eyes blown wide and wet like he’s trying not to cry. Lance feels something in his chest tighten at the sight.

“I-I mean it.” Lance whispers shakily, trying to sound more sure than he feels. “If you leave I won’t ever talk to you again.”

It’s harsh. Lance knows it is. But the hurt and pain swirling in him is more than enough to wash away the thought.

Quietly, Keith slowly backs away from the door, letting it slide closed once he’s far away enough. His hair is messy, looking bushier than usual and his face looks distressed, brows furrowed as he avoided Lance’s gaze and stared down at the ground.

He looks smaller than Lance thinks he’s ever seen him.

“Keit-” He begins.

“Please don’t hate me.” Keith breaks in, voice breathless and stressed, eyes watering further as he finally looked at Lance- something that could only be hurt painting his features. “I..I wasn’t trying to hurt you...I...just…”

“Hurt me.” Lance repeated, voice sounding hollow to his own ears. “You weren’t trying to hurt me...but this entire time you knew- you knew who _I_ was and didn’t once tell me that you were- that you w-were _you_!?” Lance asked, voice incredulous as he rose up in bed, tightening his grip on the pillow he was holding- the last thing he had to protect what dignity he had left.

“So what was this?” Lance asks sharply, glaring up at Keith as the pain that’d been building up in him turned to anger. “Some...some kinda _joke_ ?” He spit out, words souring in his mouth as he said them. “O haha let’s laugh at Lance and how _desperate_ he is-”

“No!” Keith immediately yelled, voice strained as he stared at Lance with hurt eyes. “I-I’d never do that!” he insisted.

“But you did!” Lance screamed back, voice cracking as the tears that’d been slowly blurring his vision finally spilled out, running down his cheeks as he tried to glare at Keith. “You ignored me the last time you visited! Everytime we talk you find some excuse to walk away!” Lance points out, pushing himself closer to the edge of the bed. “What else am I supposed to think this is?” He asks weakly. “What else am I supposed  to think...when it’s clear you don’t like me?”

Keith crosses the room faster than Lance has ever seen him move, face open and honest as he kneels in front of Lance, gripping his knees with such desperation that Lance feels his breath stutter.

“Lance. You _know_ me” Keith whispers, tilting his head up to stare into Lance’s eyes, breath brushing his lips. “Do you... honestly think I could do that?”

Lance hesitates.

Hesitates because he already knows the answer.

No.

Keith was a jerk and a jackass. But he wasn’t an asshole. He’d never hurt anyone the way Lance was accusing him of.

Lance felt his shoulders slump, exhaustion coursing through him as he slouched.

“No.” He replied softly. Keith’s thumb began stroking his knee, the action offering a trickle of comfort as Lance unconsciously leaned towards him.

“I…” Keith began. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

Lance glanced down away, eyes avoiding Keith’s gaze.

“Then...why?”

And wasn’t that the question that’d been burning in Lance’s mind the entire time.

Keith swallowed thickly, grip tightening on Lance’s knee.

“Because..” He choked out. “...Because I’m pathetic.”

At that Lance looked up, brows furrowed in confusion as he watched Keith begin to shake, his grip on his knee becoming almost painful but Lance couldn’t bring himself to push him away.

“I..I just wanted to be with you so _much-_ and I-I kept telling myself that it was wrong and that I shouldn’t- but-but I c-couldn’t because...I just wanted...I just wanted to pretend that you...liked me back.” He said softly, voice practically a whisper as he shook like a leaf.

Lance felt something stiffen inside him.

“Like you..back?” He can’t help but ask. Keith flinches.

“I know that you don’t.” Keith quickly adds. “I mean you’re _you_ and I’m _me-_ why would you-”

“Woah, hold up!” Lance interrupts, laying his hand down on Keith’s shoulder to steady himself. “What do you mean you _‘like’_ me?” He asks, limbs feeling oddly heavy as he stared down at the former paladin.

Keith refused to look up at him.

“Keith.” Lance said insistently, hand tightening his grip on his shoulder. “What do you mean you ‘ _like’_ me?”

Keith takes a shaky breath, shoulders rising slightly as he leant in towards Lance.

“It’s more than that.” He mumbled.

Lance furrowed his brows in confusion.

“I-I wanna hold your hand without having to wear a glove.” Keith finally broke out, voice tense as he stared down at Lance’s pillow covered lap “I wanna be able to kiss you without having to - to wear a _mask_ or force you to wear a blindfold.” At this his voice broke, quieting as he took shaky breaths.

Finally, Keith looked up, meeting Lance’s eyes- his cheeks tear stained and lip trembling as he gazed up at Lance with an earnest expression, eyes pleading.

“I...I like you as _more_ than just a friend and I wanted you to like me…but...I know I never had a chance.”

Lance felt something sink to the pit of his stomach as he watched Keith lose all traces of his usual pride, his eyes filling with new tears as he sniffled.

Gone was the standoffish boy that Lance used to fight with.

The hot headed pilot he fought alongside.

The snarky teammate that used to poke fun at Lance at every given opportunity.

The only thing left was a trembling, heartbroken boy.

And man, if there was one thing that Lance understood- it was heartbreak.

Without quite thinking about it, Lance felt his arms begin to wrap around Keith’s shaking shoulders, his hurt from earlier almost completely disappearing as Keith buried his face into his neck, muffling his soft sobs into his shoulder, soft apologies flowing out of his lips as Lance gently stroked his hair.

It takes a while for Keith to calm down- almost as if someone had opened the floodgates because his tears had just kept coming and coming, and for someone like Keith, Lance could imagine he’d been holding more than a few things locked up.

Once the last of Keith’s tears tapered off, Lance felt the other paladin slowly pull away, his neck and shoulder soaked in a mixture of tears and snot.

For a minute everything is quiet, both human and half-human staring at one another in silent anticipation.

And Lance...Lance lets himself think because he has no doubt that what Keith has told him is true. Lance can spot a faker a mile away, the type of people that used false words and fake tears, Lance was well acquainted with that brand- but Keith wasn’t like that.

But since what Keith told him was true...now what was he supposed to do? It’s not like the two of them could just part ways and pretend that the train wreck they’d just gone through didn't happen.

And Lance wasn’t sure he’d want them to anyway, because as much as he tried to ignore it- he _did_ feel some affection for Keith, an odd fondness that he couldn’t quite place.

Out of everyone in the ship, _Keith_ was the most like Lance- he was competitive, and proud, determined, and short tempered. They butted heads more often than anyone else but there was also... _something_ there. Some unvoiced understanding and respect for one another- an awareness that Lance just didn’t have with the others...not even Hunk. Because Keith, as much as he fought with Lance- was also probably the only other person Lance was _really_ close to on the ship.

And apparently the other boy was in love with him.

And wasn’t that a doozy?

Lance felt Keith shift between his legs, his hands still gripping Lance’s knees as he straightened up slightly. Slowly, Keith rose to his feet, Lance letting his arms trail down his body as he rose. Keith’s eyes had become puffy, his nose red and cheeks still lingering with wetness.

For a moment the only thing both of them can do is stare, Keith with his eyes clouded in hesitance and Lance with his heart beating harsher than normal. Keith opens his mouth, expression resigned but Lance cuts in before he can say anything.

“I never said that you didn’t have a chance.” He says quickly, pulse racing as some strange emotion settled in his chest, making it feel light and heavy at the same time. Keith’s eyes flicker to meet his, expression having fallen into something more surprised at his words. Lance swallows the slight knot forming in his throat before continuing.

“I...never said that you didn’t have a chance.” He repeated, tasting the words slowly as he said them, Keith’s stunned eyes locked on him.

And it’s true. Lance had never said that Keith _didn’t_ have a shot with him- because Lance was pretty sure that _everyone_ had a shot with him.

“But…” He began, taking a deep breath. “You did lie to me- and you still haven’t apologized for ignoring me.” He says. At this Keith winces, lowering his head in shame. Lance watches him for a moment, watches as Keith’s hands clench nervously by his side, mouth opening and closing as he tried to come up with something to say.

“Stillll...” Lance drawls out, pushing himself up and letting the pillow he’d been holding to him slide to the ground. “I did mean what I said before.”

Keith’s brows furrow slightly in confusion, head tilted like he was at loss. Lance feels a genuine smirk begin to creep up.

“Your dick _is_ pretty magical.”

Keith sputters, face turning a slightly rose hue as he choked on his words. Lance smiled and let a soft laugh escape him at the reaction before his mind flickered back to reality.

….Keith _had_ lied to him. Lance knew that, he could still feel the small flames of betrayal burning in his chest. But...it wasn’t like had been trying to hurt him- if he was Lance doubted he’d ever be able to even _look_ at the other boy.

And Keith....he was special- Lance still wasn't sure how and he wasn’t sure when that had become true but he knew that it was and so that meant something. And Keith-

Lance glanced at the former paladin, feeling a smile tug on his lips as Keith shifted in front of him, eyes looking pointedly away. Lance felt a flicker of confusion because why would-

Oh.

 _Oh_. So Keith was a gentleman.

Lance felt his smirk grow as he was suddenly reminded of his nakedness, the pillow he’d been holding to his crotch long gone.

Man, this was probably the weirdest love confession Lance had ever received.

Love.

Huh. Weirdly enough that even as Keith started babbling an apology, promising that he hadn’t been trying to ignore Lance on purpose it was just that he’d thought Lance would figure it out and-and- and…

Lance let his mind drift. Out of every single person that Lance had ever been with- out of all of them, Keith was probably the only person that'd ever apologized for hurting him.

And shit maybe Lance has got mad low standards but he thinks that Keith’s apology had to count for something.

As Keith slowed down, his words trailing off, Lance felt himself take a step closer. Keith’s ears were red, his eyes shifting around the room as he avoided looking below Lance’s waist (as if he hadn’t already become intimately familiar with it already).

Leaning forward, Lance felt his lips begin to pucker, dried drool from when he’d been getting the life fucked out of him still clinging to his cheeks- though he doubted Keith would mind. Lance pressed his lips lightly against Keith’s soft cheeks, feeling the skin heat up under his mouth as he began to pull away.

Keith was watching him, expression tinged with hope as Lance fell back onto his bed, absently patting the space beside him for Keith to join- an invitation that Lance hoped was pretty clear. Lance felt the mattress shift beside him and released a slow breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Keith wasn’t gold. He still annoyed Lance so he would hardly call him a treasure.

Keith was more like….a really nice rock.

Turning his head to the side, Lance met Keith’s gaze, his grey eyes watching Lance with a brightness Lance had never seen him show before. Slowly Keith crept forward, his eyes staring into Lance’s as if searching for any signs of protest. Softly, Keith pressed a gently kiss against the side of Lance’s mouth. Lance felt his lips curl into a smile at the action.

Yup.

A really really really _really_ nice rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3  
> XxX  
> catch me on [my shitty blog](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> rebloging memes instead of doing work


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